


Catch a Falling Star

by mpatientdreamr



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Glee, Jossverse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, F/M, Puck Is Not Politically Correct, Spike Isn't Either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-23
Updated: 2012-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-10 14:03:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpatientdreamr/pseuds/mpatientdreamr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Puck’s dream comes true (sort of), the Glee kids realize they had a good thing now that it’s gone, and Rachel learns that, sometimes, Dreams take a back seat to Destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: For SariLane, who gives good distraction. Also, this is AU as of Sectionals, 1x13. 
> 
> Also, Jordan 'Jordy' Osbourne is Oz's cousin, the one that bit him and passed along his lycanthropy. He's a canon, if unseen, Buffy character.

Sectionals might have been won but New Directions was anything but united by the victory. There were fractures, fissures running through them, dividing them now more than ever into separate classes. The Gleeks and the Populars. And Rachel knew that what was to come next wouldn’t strengthen their bonds any.

The bullying was more covert now. There weren’t any slushy facials or pee balloons. Rachel knew exactly who was doing it, too. The guilt was the only thing that kept her from confronting him. 

Rachel knew she shouldn’t be doing this. Her Dad and Daddy would be appalled. But the sad fact of the matter was, she didn’t know that, if she didn’t do it now, she would ever get a chance to. 

Climbing up the side of the house was easier than she could have imagined. Crawling through the window was a graceful endeavor. Deftly dodging around a teenage boy’s detritus and gently slapping a hand over his mouth? That took courage.

Rachel caught the startled fist that was swung at her and whispered, “Shh, I just want to talk to you.” 

Puck stilled, eyes automatically darting to the V of her shirt and Rachel rolled her eyes. Still, distracted though he was, he managed to murmur, “What the fuck,” into the soft palm of her hand.

“I wished to tell you that I understand that you saw my telling Finn the truth a betrayal, as much as you as to Quinn. And I understand that your juvenile mentality dictates that such betrayals are best dealt with with pranks and destructive behavior.” She tightened her hand over his mouth when he started to protest. “I understand, Noah, and I know you think I told Finn to win him. But I told him because what you were doing was unfair. But none of that is why I’m here. I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m gone.”

And then she was, out the window and down the street before he could even untangle himself from his blankets.

He wouldn’t really understand any of it until tomorrow, if then. None of New Directions would really understand. Not that they’d care about anything besides losing her vocal talents.

Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat and kept running, letting the night air cool her face. There was something, now, about running that just felt like freedom in a way that used to belong solely to getting a solo. Her mind started to clear and she pushed harder, hanging a sharp turn into a small cemetery. 

Lima was notorious for being quiet, quaint, so no one bothered her; nothing heeded her path straight through the rows of headstones.

She slowed, though, as soon as she spotted the gates. She walked slowly up to them and there he was. He’d blown her world to pieces and she wanted to hate him for that but there was something about the man that was just too kind for serious hatred. And she could tell that giving her the news had been hard on him.

Telling a girl that all her dreaming had been for naught had to be hard. Rachel could find understanding in her heart for the man that did so with empathy and sincerity.

He spotted her before she was fully out of the shadows and straightened away from the hood of the car he’d been leaning against. “Hey,” he said hesitantly.

She took a step closer to him. “Do you think I’ll like it there? Will people like me?”

She winced slightly at the last question. She hadn’t meant to ask that, although it was what she truly wished to know most.

“I think you’ll like it,” he shrugged helplessly. “And I’m sure there’s somebody there that’ll like you.” He brightened minutely and said, “Just hang with me, kid, and I’ll introduce to some real winners.”

She studied him for a moment, then straightened and strode up to stand beside him. “Then Mr. Harris, I’m prepared to begin training for my new destiny.”

He grinned at her, a little bemused but not at all put off. “Awesome.”

Rachel closed her eyes as they passed the sign telling them they were leaving Lima and made a wish. ‘ _Please let me find friends_.’   
   
 


	2. Chapter 2

Puck forgot about Berry’s random weirdness until the next day at school. Okay, that wasn’t totally true, and not just because he’d added another Berry fantasy to his spank bank. He’d never thought force was his kink but a hot Jew holding him down? Well, it was enough to rev the engines.

When he’d taken the time to consider anything besides how _hot_ it had been, though, the first _real_ thought he had was that it was totally out of character. While it obviously played into the girl’s self-imposed drama, bowing out gracefully wasn’t in Berry’s repertoire. 

So, after a whole day of sort of looking for Berry so she could explain her latest crazy and not finding her, Puck actually made the effort to get to the choir room early because that was the one place she had to be. Rachel Berry _lived_ for Glee. Not that he was worried about her or anything but sneaking into dudes’ bedrooms while they slept was a level of crazy he’d never thought Berry would reach and he thought he should warn her off from doing it again. He had nunchucks, you know. 

But all he found was Mr. Schue, looking like someone had kicked his puppy or stolen his star singer. The dude’s hair was even drooping in sympathy and Puck was kind of afraid there were going to be tears. And Dudes should _not_ cry.

“Mr. Schuester?” Hummel asked from behind him.

Puck glanced over his shoulder and saw the rest of Glee standing there, staring at Schue. Looking back at Schue, he got this weird sense of dread. Because he hadn’t seen Berry and Schue was doing epic sadfaces and those two things did not add up to happy thoughts.

Schue looked at them, then stood, face solemn. “Rachel has quit Glee.”

“Again?” Mercedes huffed. “Girl’s gotten every solo for the past week. What more does she want, Quinn’s first born?”

Snickers started up but Puck wasn’t laughing and neither was Mr. Schue so it died down pretty quickly.

Mr. Schuester studied each and every one of them before asking seriously, “ _None_ of you noticed Rachel wasn’t in school today?”

Puck didn’t speak up because his life was hard enough without making Finn act jealous (which he only was if it was Puck) and Quinn getting pissy (which she _always_ seemed to be). Mentioning Berry’s name at all would do that, with either of them. Of course, he looked over his shoulder and all he saw were guilty faces and that was a little shocking because Finn was supposed to dig her, right, and she was supposed to be madly in love with the doofus or whatever. So, if she’d stopped by Finn’s place like she had Puck’s and spewed crazy everywhere, he’d have been looking for her today. But Finn just looked really confused. Weirder and weirder.

Schue straightened and now he looked disappointed in them. “Rachel was offered a slot at a private school in Cleveland and she took it. The good news, for us, is that they don’t have a Glee club and didn’t compete in Sectionals. The bad news is that we’re down a member and we have to place at Regionals or Figgins is shutting down Glee.”

The room erupted as the others babbled Gleek nonsense but Puck couldn’t really think of anything but the fact that Rachel Berry _lived_ for Glee and the look on her face as she looked down at him.

And her final truth rang in his ears. ‘ _I’m gone_.’

   
 


	3. Chapter 3

Rachel jerked slightly when Xander settled a hand at the small of her back to guide her. The school was huge and stately and Rachel wanted her daddies. But they’d already signed the papers saying they’d stay away six months and give her time to acclimate. Of course, she got phone calls and letters but that wouldn’t be the same.

There were girls everywhere, most of them staring at her, and Rachel straightened her spine. She was a _star_. She was born to be noticed. And she had long ago stopped caring what anyone else thought about her knee socks.

“Breathe,” Xander murmured and Rachel released a startled breath. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped until he said something. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Rachel edged closer to him, even as he led her down an empty hallway. “You can’t know that. I’m a being of destiny, now. I’m going to be fighting monsters. I have to graduate high school.”

He stopped them, swinging around until he faced her and bent slightly at the knee until he was looking her right in the eye. “I can’t tell you what’s going to happen tomorrow. But today? The next 20 minutes, anyway? They’re going to be okay.”

And perhaps it was because he went to such great lengths to be accurate while being comforting or maybe it was because he had a kind face but she relaxed a little and felt maybe just a little hopeful.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” she repeated quietly, looking him in the eye and he grinned brightly.

She smiled, her first real one since she’d agreed to come to Summers’ Academy for the Gifted.

They moved down the hallway until they got to the end and turned into a little cove with only one door with a handmade sign taped to it that read BRAT Division.

“BRAT?” Rachel asked, uncertain.

“Badass Research and Technology,” Xander snorted. “They added the ‘B’ because they didn’t want to be called the RAT Division. Also, they’re the youngest Watchers in the Council.”

“How old are they?” Rachel asked, intrigued. Her heart rolled in her chest at the Badass and she was suddenly homesick for Glee.

“Dawn, Carlos, and Kit are sixteen. Jordy and Cassie are fifteen. Danny just turned seventeen. And we can’t be sure how old Connor is but I’m bettin’ around sixteen,” Xander said, shrugging, before knocking on the door. “Really, they’re just the only Watchers-in-Training that go out into the field by themselves.”

The door swung open before Rachel could comment, the sounds of hysterical laughter greeting them. A couch took up an entire wall, the other three lined with filled bookcases. Bean bags and stacks of books that would come up to Rachel’s knee were scattered across the room. There seemed to be teenagers everywhere and it basically looked like a very small, very inclusive clubhouse.

“Xan?” the girl who opened the door eyed them, bemused, as the hysterically laughing boy finally wrestled away the pillow another boy was trying to smother him with.

“Rachel, these are the Council BRATs. Guys, this is Rachel Berry. I think she’s going to be one of your unit’s Slayers,” Xander said and Rachel rocked back, shocked. “Eventually,” he hastened to add.

Rachel swallowed as the girl stepped back, out of the doorway and everyone else got to their feet. She glanced at Xander one last time before stepping into the breach.

She cleared her throat before saying, “Hello, everyone, I’m Rachel Berry and one day, I’m going to be a star.”

No one laughed or pointed and Rachel felt her spirits lift.

“Awesome. I’m Dawn. Let me introduce you to everyone.”

Rachel’s head swam as everyone was _polite_ to her and no one insulted her and it was quite honestly the best time she’d had with a group of teenagers since sweeping Sectionals.  
 


	4. Chapter 4

Puck hated to be a pussy but Glee had sort of lost its sparkle. Mr. Schue still threw himself into it with everything he had. And they’d managed to find a twelfth member, a chick named Susan that was full of talent and full of herself and full of drama. She was Berry-lite and everybody hated her, even Finn.

And, according to Hummel, that was what this emergency meeting was all about. Puck was sort of having a hard time giving a fuck.

“We _have_ to do something,” Hummel stressed, frowning in ways that would undoubtedly give him wrinkles and, God. Puck needed to stop hanging with chicks and homos. They were _awful_ influences. He did a discreet check just to make sure his balls were still there. “Susan lacks the star quality we need to place at Regionals and we all know that if we don’t place at Regionals, there’ll be no more Glee.”

“We need Rachel,” Finn burst out and a hush fell over the room.

They’d all kind of treated it like she’d died. They didn’t say her name or talk about Barbara Streisand and the one time Hummel had tried to sing ‘Defying Gravity’, he’d gone mute for an hour. So hearing even her name after she’d been gone a month was startling.

“God,” Santana said, face scrunched up in distaste. “As much as I hate to admit it, and I _do_ , we need her.”

“But do we _want_ her back?” Artie asked quietly and everybody looked at him. “I mean, haven’t you all thought about why she might have left? People threw things at her and called her names. And we’re not talking about her like she was our friend. We’re talking about her like it’s her talent we want.”

“It’s her talent we _need_ ,” Santana clarified, still looking grossed out. “If we could find that kind of talent in a less annoying person, it’d be the best of both worlds.”

“But, see, that’s the problem,” Artie said, frowning at her. “If we don’t want _her_ to be in Glee, then anybody with talent should do. But Susan isn’t working.”

“She doesn’t sparkle,” Puck murmured. Everybody looked at him, astonished, and he gave a jerky shrug. “Rachel Berry should probably be fitted for a strait jacket but put her on a stage and she owned it. Put her on stage with somebody else and they sparkled, too. She just has something that makes people bring their best.”

“Well,” Hummel said after a second of everybody staring. “ _Someone_ wants her.”

Puck snorted and looked away and hoped to hell nobody could read his mind because, for God’s sake, he wasn’t supposed to miss Berry’s crazy, was he?

   
 


	5. Chapter 5

Lunches at the Academy were always interesting affairs. It was the time when the broadest crosshatch of the Council co-existed together. Travelling Slay teams, Watchers, teachers, and students, they all had to eat and no one was allowed to eat at their desks.

So, of course, while people were trying to digest, some tried to stir up drama.

“You realized that none of them are Slayers?” Kennedy asked snottily, gripping her tray. “They’re just cannon fodder.”

Kit narrowed her eyes before Rachel could respond and Kennedy dropped her tray, yelping. “Eat that.”

Rachel wasn’t certain why every girl that happened to be a Slayer felt the need to point out to her that her new friends were, point of fact, not Slayers. She was new, not clueless. And the fact that Kennedy had managed to so grossly underestimate the BRATs made Rachel wonder how the girl had survived to head her own Slay team. 

Because Rachel had seen, over the past two months, exactly what her friends were capable of and cannon fodder, they were not. Of course, she’d learned early with them to let them fight their own battles they were frighteningly independent.

Kennedy marched off, shooting glares over her shoulder and, of course, leaving the mess behind.

“Ignore her,” Dawn advised with a sigh. “I’m the one she hates but she’ll take it out on anybody that gets close to me.” 

Rachel furrowed her brow. “Why would she hate you?”

Not that she in any way entertained the idea that Dawn was perfectly well-behaved but she certainly didn’t understand where hatred came into it.

“She dated Willow,” Dawn said glumly.

And that, truthfully, was answer enough. Willow was a scarily pleasant individual with more power than any one person should possess. It was also a well-known fact that she was still very much in love with a deceased lover.

“Ah,” Rachel said, having learned a modicum of tact the hard way upon her arrival at the Academy. Jordy had been quite cheerful when he informed her that inappropriate comments often led to physical altercations. “So she dislikes you because Ms. Rosenberg thinks the sun rises and sets with your graceful presence.”

Dawn snickered but blushed, too, and Rachel was glad she had never known what it was like to have a parent die and the other be uninterested in her life to the point where people barely older than she was became the parent. Of course, that was the thing about the BRATs, none of them were really all that normal. They were unique and truly individual. Of course, that also made them freaks. Strange how that made Rachel all the more comfortable with them.

Her iPhone buzzed in her pocket and Rachel perked up, pulling it out to see who was texting her. She stilled when she saw who it was.

“Rach?” Connor asked, scowling at her upset.

“It’s fine,” Rachel said quickly. If he thought it upset her enough, Connor wouldn’t hesitate to take penance from her brand new, very lovely phone. “Just a…friend, from Glee.”

Connor grunted, still not looking wholly satisfied but less likely to rip the phone from her grasp and stomp on it.

And she had to wonder, as she looked over the message, how he had gotten her new number.  
 


	6. Chapter 6

Puck glanced around the choir room and it was the same dreary room it’d been for the last three months. Quinn and he had blown up before they really started, Finn still wasn’t talking to him, and the other Gleeks were Switzerland. He didn’t know why he stayed except…this was Berry’s baby and he knew she would come back to it.

Artie had sort of shut down after the ‘want vs. need’ argument and everything had gone downhill from that. With Rachel’s excessive jubilation and Artie’s wry cheer gone, they were down their two happiest members and they were left with…Susan.

Susan, who had run out of practice in a snit and Mr. Schue followed like a puppy begging for treats. Susan, who had had _every_ solo for the past month and a half. Susan, who was re-entering the room, triumphant. And Puck officially called bullshit.

Well, he would have, except Hummel stood, straightened the neckerchief tied around his neck, and announced, “Either Susan leaves Glee or I walk. Such behavior can only be tolerated when the misbehaving have the talent to back up Diva behavior. And our darling Suzy is no Rachel Berry. Make a choice, Mr. Schue. Your best male alto who has been with you since the very beginning or this Freshman brat who only joined after we won Sectionals.”

“Kurt,” Mr. Schue said, desperation and warning in his tone.

Puck held up both thumbs and said, “Way to channel the Crimson Wave, Hummel.”

Kurt huffed, yanking on his shirt but there may have been a small smile at the corners of his mouth. That was one of the few good things to come from Susan. Everybody had banded together in their hatred of her and they were, in a way, stronger for it.

Mercedes stood, full Diva’tude apparent and ready for battle. “No, sir. She gets every solo. She acts like a drama queen and she’s not half as good as our girl. So if she stays, I quit, too.” 

Mr. Schue swallowed when everybody stood and he realized he had an insurrection on his hands. He turned to Susan, who appeared _baffled_. “Susan, I’m sorry but the club has spoken. You’re just not a good enough team player.”

Susan gave a wail and ran out of the room, tears streaking her pretty cheeks.

Mr. Schue watched her go, then turned to them, defeated. “I hope you guys have a plan because she was our only chance to win Regionals.”

“But _we_ wouldn’t have won Regionals,” Artie said, a peculiar look in his eyes and more animated than he’d been in weeks. “ _She_ would have.”

“I hate to say it,” Kurt said, pausing for dramatic effect, the shit. “But I miss Rachel. Her diva behavior had gotten much better before Sectionals. And she really believed being a part of something special made people special. I miss the _friendly_ competition.”

“Rachel’s gone,” Mr. Schue said, collapsing back onto his stool. “None of you have heard from her in months. Regionals are in two weeks. We have to move on, guys.”

“That’s not strictly true, Mr. Schue,” Artie said, straightening his glasses. He rolled over to the piano, reached across his shoulder for his backpack, and pulled a laptop out, settling it on the piano as he said, “Rachel and I have been texting and e-mailing for a while.”

“Dude,” Puck said, bouncing down to stand behind him, the others following him like a tide. “How did you get her new number? Her old one was shut off or some shit.”

“Puck,” Mr. Schue said, exasperated, and Puck shrugged at him. Like any of them hadn’t heard the word shit before.

Artie looked up at him, serious. “I asked her fathers for it.”

“Oh,” Puck said, shuffling. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Probably for the best,” Artie said and Puck hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that smile of his. “Mr. Berry owns a gun. He might have shot first and asked questions later, with your reputation.”

“Which Mr. Berry?” Puck asked instinctively. Hey, it paid to know which papa was the shooter and which the shouter.

“Byron, not Eli,” Artie said with a wicked little smirk as he opened an e-mail and a video of Berry came on screen.”

“Artie! You’ve got to come dance with us,” Rachel said from the screen, laughing, before she and a girl that wandered on screen started dancing and singing along to the radio. “Twenty-Twenty-Twenty-four hours to go, I wanna be sedated. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, I wanna be sedated…”

Rachel was in a plain white tank top and jeans with one knee ripped out. Her hair flew about her shoulders and her only other adornments were dainty diamonds in her ears and the Star of David at her throat.

It lacked the lace and frippery of a typical Rachel Berry ensemble but Puck had to grab Artie’s shoulder because _God_. She looked good, happy and smiling in a way he had never seen her do before. She looked like magic and sex and everything good in Puck’s world.

Artie looked at him. “I’m supposed to go up to her school this weekend for a sleepover. I doubt they would mind if I brought a few friends.”

Puck nodded, swallowing. “I’m in.”

Other people filtered across the screen, girls swaying fit, curvy bodies and boys that swung them up and around, laughing, all of them singing along with The Ramones.

Puck’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out blindly, finally looking down to see that Artie had texted him Rachel’s number.

“Use it wisely,” Artie said, gently shutting his computer as Rachel fell into a laughing tangle with a bunch of kids Puck had never met.

Puck left the choir room immediately, phone clutched in his hand.

He jumped in his truck, heart pounding, before his thumbs started to tap across the pad.

‘ _Berry_ …’

‘ _Hey Berry, don’t ignore me_.’

He waited a minute, then, throat tight, sent, ‘ _Rachel, I miss you_.’

He turned his phone off and flung it into the passenger seat before starting the truck and peeling out of the lot. Friday. He could be patient until Friday.


	7. Chapter 7

Rachel had felt fluttering in her stomach since yesterday and she hadn’t been paying nearly as much attention as she was supposed to be. That was probably why Faith had flattened her into the mat like an enraged rhino, messing up her ankle and a couple of her ribs while making her point.

“Rona, take Rach to the BRATs since she can’t seem to concentrate enough not to get taken apart,” Faith huffed, shaking her hair out of her face.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…tomorrow’s Friday,” she said, beaming even as Rona strung her over her shoulder.

Faith rolled her eyes but smiled indulgently. “Yeah, see, this is why you’re supposed to wait six months for this kind of thing.”

Rachel felt a moment’s panic. “I can stay. I can keep going. I’m sure I’ll even be recuperated enough to patrol tonight.”

‘ _Please don’t take away Friday_.’

Faith’s eyes softened but her hand shot out and lightly tapped dinged ribs, causing Rachel to curl in on herself in pain. “Yeah, you’re just fine and dandy. Go rest, Rach. You’ve got a friend coming tomorrow.”

Rachel felt a rush of relief and let Rona drag her away. 

“She wouldn’t have said he couldn’t come,” Rona huffed, as irritable as ever. “That’s not Faith’s style.”

“I know that,” Rachel nodded. “I do. But I’m allowed to occasionally worry about the nonsensical. Mr. Giles says so.”

Rona snorted as they reached the BRAT office and moved to prop her against the door. “I guess I’ll leave you here.”

Rachel tightened her arm. “Why do none of you ever come in? The BRATs don’t bite, you realize?”

Rona tensed a little as she answered tersely. “I’m not a BRAT, I’m a Slayer.”

“Of course,” Rachel said coldly, jerking away. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait,” Ron said, exasperated. “I’ve never gone in because I’ve never been invited in. And I’m pretty sure Dawn hates me.”

Rachel studied her, seeing old wounds and fresh resentments. Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg tended to parent the BRATs more than the Slayers, hovering almost to the point of annoyance, that was true. But Rachel was pretty sure this was older than that.

“Dawn doesn’t hate you Rona. She just doesn’t know you,” Rachel said quietly. “If you are referring to the First Apocalypse, anyway. Everyone was so busy training you girls or protecting her that she didn’t have time to get to know any of you. Except Kennedy and that rather unfortunately hasn’t ended well. And she got tired of waiting for one of you to see her as something besides Buffy’s little sister and made her own friends. But, as you said yourself, you’re a Slayer, Rona. If you want to go in, go in. Have some courage.”

Rona eyed the door like it was poisonous for a moment, then straightened and shoved it open, jerkily hauling Rachel through and startling everybody inside. When everyone saw the state she was in, they started buzzing around her. Kit ungently shoved a dozing Jordy off into the floor, causing him to flail and yelp. Carlos dragged a first aid kit over to the couch as Rona dropped her on it, then shuffled over to an unoccupied corner.

“What happened? Are we under attack? Demons?” Dawn fretted, hovering and getting in Carlos’s way.

“Faith,” Rachel answered wryly, cutting across her worry. “She took exception to my inattention.”

“I _told_ you that you should have just stayed here,” Jordy grumbled as he flopped over, trying to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep. “You’ve been in your head since yesterday and that can get you dead.” He finally gave up on getting comfortable and crawled back up onto the couch and thus, basically into her lap, ignoring the fact that Carlos had her shirt rucked up so he could apply a bandage. “And you’re one of our Slayers, so we need you to not be dead.”

“Who’re your other Slayers?” Rona blurted, causing the whole room to look at her.

Jordy peeped blearily at her. “Hey, Rona, when did you get here?”

Rachel tapped his chin, drawing his attention to her. “She brought me from practice. You were asleep.”

“Ignore him,” Kit told Rona, collapsing into a bean bag and shoving her skirt down between her legs to keep from flashing anybody. “The three day full moon cycle starts tomorrow and it always makes him tired and cranky and a little slow.”

“I would resent that if it weren’t so true,” Jordy grumbled.

Rachel softened and started to run her hands through his hair, causing him to hum in appreciation, which turned into a soft, lyrical chant the monks had taught him that always calmed the turbulent Slayer inside her.

“What is that?” Rona asked, startled, as she pressed a hand to her sternum.

“Tibetan peace chant,” Rachel said drowsily.

One of the bookcases slid out of place and Connor walked in before anyone could say anything.

“Where did you come from?” Rona demanded, caught off guard.

Connor raised an eyebrow but just said, like she should have already known, “Giles’s office.”

And, alright, Connor did spend an inordinate amount of time in Mr. Giles’s office for making people, usually Watchers, cry.

“All of the bookcases move,” Kit said, answering her real question and Rona finally gave up and flopped down in the bean bag next to her. “There’s hidden tunnels that can lead pretty much anywhere in the school.”

“And what was Jordy saying about Slayers?” Rona asked, seemingly getting more comfortable by the second.

“Xander says we’ll probably have about three,” Kit murmured. “I think Dawn’s trying to woo Chao-Ahn.”

“I’m not _wooing_ her,” Dawn instantly denied. “I just think it’s _ridiculous_ to have a Slayer no one can communicate with around. Although, she and Xander do pretty well with those illustrations. Have you seen them?”

And Rachel wasn’t sure whether it was the enthusiasm in Dawn’s voice or her willingness to include her, but Rona relaxed fully, smirking as she said, “Yeah. I picked up the notebook they were in, once, and she almost broke three of my fingers getting it back.”

“Yeah, she is really protective of it,” Dawn pondered for a moment before starting up a familiar patter.

It all became background noise for Rachel, though, as the magic in the bandages and Jordy’s chant sent her off to a dreamless sleep.

   
 


	8. Chapter 8

Puck was a little nervous; pulling up to the Academy gates because, upon seeing it, he wasn’t sure he _or_ New Directions could compete. Regal, stately, high-class, it was the kind of place Rachel Berry deserved, even if, maybe, it didn’t deserve her.

They had to stop at the gate, a light on the intercom blinking before it crackled and a girl chirped, “Welcome to Summers’ Academy for the Gifted. How can we help you today?”

Artie leaned across his father, who’d agreed to haul half of them in his van, and said cheerfully, “Arthur Abrams to see Miss Rachel Berry, please?”

There was a giggle, then a buzz, and the gates slowly slid open. Mr. Abrams whistled as more of the school came into view and Puck swallowed his dread. No way would she leave all this for Lima.

“Some place your girl’s got,” Mr. Abrams said.

Artie caught Puck’s eyes in the rearview mirror as he said, “Yeah, but I don’t think they know what a good thing they have. They don’t even have a glee club.”

“Makes you wonder what the ‘Gifted’ stands for,” Mr. Abrams mused. “Since singing is Rachel’s gift and they don’t have an outlet for her to use it.”

And that was something that Puck had never thought of. Of course, he was immediately distracted from it because the front porch came into view, decorative scrollwork along the top and a boy hanging, shirtless, upside down from it. And there she was, Rachel Berry in a pleated black skirt and a red satin and lace tank top that showed off her tiny, toned body, dark fall of hair pushed back by a black Alice band. She was smiling happily at whatever the boy was saying and Puck suddenly, irrationally hated a guy he’d never met just because she looked genuinely delighted to have him beside her.

The boy spotted their little caravan before Rachel and he did a back flip from where he was hanging that should’ve broken his neck but he landed lightly on his feet, leaning his elbows back against the railing. Rachel said something seriously and the guy smiled sharply over his shoulder at her. Puck was betting she’d ordered him to behave. He was also betting, from that smile alone, the guy didn’t take orders well.

“Sweet baby Jesus and all his little sheep,” Hummel said reverently. “If all the guys she’s hanging out with look like him, we’re sunk. She’s not going anywhere. _I_ wouldn’t, anyway.”

Puck’s lip curled instinctively and not just because Hummel was talking gay fantasy right there in the backseat. There were plenty of studs in Lima, starting with him. It was just…most of them had been douchebags to her since she moved to town and happily announced that she had two gay daddies. Puck, not having _any_ daddy at that point and being extremely pissed off about that, had led the charge and the rest was insulting, slushy-filled history.

“Rachel Berry will not be swayed by eye candy,” Artie said staunchly. If he was unsure of that, Puck couldn’t tell and he was a little in awe of that optimism. “She has dreams and a talent and this place isn’t giving her any avenue to express that. Our best advantage is our like-minded vision of success.” He paused for a moment, then added seriously, “And Puck’s guns.”

Puck snorted because true dat. He might have been an ass to her in the past but Berry had jumped at the chance to jump him. Although, seriously, it was a good thing Finn was riding in Mr. Schue’s car or there might have been a dent in Puck’s head from his fist. Puck wasn’t sure how it’d shaken out that he and the four original Gleeks rode with Mr. Abrams while Finn, Matt, and Mike almost overloaded Mr. Schue’s piece of shit Pinto and Quinn, Brittany, and Santanna rode together, Santanna, thankfully, driving. But he was kind of glad because, nerds or not, things were always less awkward with them than with anyone else in the club.

Still, though. “I don’t know if I can, you know,” Puck mumbled, twisting to see Artie in the seat behind him.

Tina, like the cool chick she was, rolled her eyes but shifted to stare out the window and gave them some privacy.

“Just follow my lead, then,” Artie said wisely. “Give me a look or say the word and I’ll take over.”

Finn didn’t know about this part of the plan. Finn just thought they were going to show up and marvel her with their devotion to glee and their recognition of her talent. Finn, always oblivious, was also occasionally an asshole. But because Finn could do that big, dumb puppy thing, everybody dismissed it, called it a fluke, even when it happened several times in a row. Puck, built like a pit bull and just as aggressive, was never cut any slack.

He wasn’t all that sure why Artie thought he’d be better for this part than Finn but whatever. As long as he didn’t have to watch more coweyes between the two of them, he was golden.

But he was also pretty sure Artie was going to have to take the lead because, piling out of the van with everybody as the other cars pulled to a stop behind them, he was struck mute.

He grabbed hold of one of the handles of Artie’s wheelchair, startling Tina, who usually pushed him. Her lips twitched but her hair, a sort of punk rainbow streaked through black this week, swung down to curtain her face. She kept a hold of the other handle, though. Her place was at Artie’s back and it was one of the few things she ever got forceful about. Not that Artie ever noticed. Dude was awesome in his own right but if it wasn’t his guitar, the A.V. club, or his own joystick, he was kind of oblivious. Tina didn’t seem to mind, though, for which Artie should be grateful.

Tina started pushing Artie forward as Rachel bounced down the stairs and Puck fell in line.

Artie took Rachel’s hand when they reached her and said, deadpan, “We’re courting you.”

Of course she smiled. Drama was Rachel Berry’s bread and butter.

Puck risked a glance over his shoulder as Artie started to hum, and Finn looked dumbfounded which, yeah, no shock there.

He looked back to Rachel when Artie started to sing, “ _Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket. Never let it fade away. Catch a falling start and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day_.”

Puck nudged him, ready, and took over. “ _For a love may come and tap you on the shoulder, some starless night. And just in case you feel you wanna hold her, you’ll have a pocket full of starlight_.”

Mercedes, Tina, Kurt and Artie took up the refrain, blending in that perfect way that the six original Gleeks always did and that the other six of them was still working on wedging their way into.

Puck let go of Artie’s chair and Artie let go of Rachel’s hand, easily shifting back as Puck shifted forward and sang, low and quiet, as he took her hand, “ _For when your troubles start multiplyin’, and they just might. It’s easy to forget without trying with just a pocket full of starlight_.” The others took the chorus, everybody but Finn joining in and it was a rich sound, just shy of perfect. But Puck was too busy staring into her liquid chocolate eyes and wanting to kiss her. And since Puck wasn’t one to deny his impulses, he did, gently, and then nuzzled his way to her ear as the last note trailed off. “I missed you, Berry.”

   
 


	9. Chapter 9

Rachel was, for once in her life, speechless. Noah was being vulnerable and Glee was here, _courting_ her, and this wasn’t how she thought this Friday was going to go.

“Rachel, you look like someone smacked you with a fish,” Connor cheerfully informed her and Rachel startled.

“Well-I’m-And-Oh, shut up Connor Angel,” she finally huffed, glancing back at him. “And you’re starting to burn.”

He winced. “Damn fair skin. Damn Danny for winning that bet.”

“You know better than bet against Danny when it comes to girls,” Rachel said, thoroughly sidetracked.

“Rachel,” Connor said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Are you going to introduce me or are we going to keep talking around your friends?” 

She jolted, realized Noah was still holding her hands and looking at her expectantly, and blushed. “Do excuse my poor manners. Everyone, this is Connor Angel. Connor, this is New Directions.”

“Uh huh,” he nodded. “And I’m thinking the guy holding your hands isn’t Artie.”

“No, this is Noah. Noah Puckerman,” Rachel said, looking up at him and seemed to soften all over. 

“Puck,” Noah said, scowling at Connor and that just wouldn’t do. Connor was always difficult and usually volatile. 

Ms. Rosenberg must have been preaching restraint again, though, because Connor just smirked that infuriating smirk of his and Rachel was in turns grateful and worried.

And think of the devil, because here she came in all her pagan glory, crystals swaying from her neck and skirt brushing the floor, corset tight around her tiny waist.

“Connor, Faith is waiting for you not so patiently in the gym,” she said.

He stepped out from the railing, jumped backwards, and cleared it, landing smoothly beside Ms. Rosenberg, who smoothed hair out of his face.

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered, standing still until her hand dropped, then taking off like a shot for the gym.

And that was probably wise because someone had stolen Faith’s last pack of cigarettes and she’d been infuriated all day with her aggression growing by the hour, especially since she couldn’t get away until her last class was finished. Everyone suspected Spike but no one was willing to point that finger.

And she should probably explain the petting before this got any more awkward. “Connor is a ward of the Academy and Ms. Rosenberg is one of his guardians,” she blurted. “She’s also the computer and sciences teacher.”

“Two subjects. You must be a very busy woman,” Mr. Schue said, smiling grandly.

“Yes. I am,” Ms. Rosenberg said, lifting an eyebrow. “Rachel, I thought there was only going to be one boy?”

“My fault,” Mr. Schue said. “I know you probably aren’t prepared for so many extra kids but we wanted to surprise Rachel,” he said, laying the charm on thick.

“Of course,” the redhead said and Mr. Schue looked a little shocked at the rebuke in her tone. “Class in five minutes. Cassie will take care of your friends until you’re done for the day,” she said, turning and walking back inside.

“Don’t worry yourself as to the resistibility of your manly charms, Mr. Schue,” Rachel said soothingly. “Ms. Rosenberg is a lesbian. Although, there are rumors of a former illicit affair with the meditation teacher, who is male.”

Cassie snickered as she moved slowly out onto the porch, hand stretched out in front of her. Noah’s hand jerked in Rachel’s as he noticed Cassie’s white eyes. 

“I don’t think ‘illicit’ really fits Mr. Oz,” Cassie said, still smiling.

“Yes, well,” Rachel said, shrugging. “Everyone, this is Cassie Newton Summers, another ward of the Academy.”

Cassie lifted a hand. “Hey. Ah, Mr. Abrams? Mr. Harris asks that you hang on a second and he’ll give you his personal number. He’s just having to help with a disciplinary issue at the moment.”

“No problem,” Mr. Abrams said, although he was clearly having second thoughts about letting his son stay for the weekend. The Academy excelled at the bizarre but helping outside people understand was not their strong point.

“A lesbian for a teacher. You must feel right at home here, Berry,” Santana said cattily, nary a ‘man-hands’ or ‘Ru Paul’ in sight. Obviously, that was her concession for niceties.

“She knows I’m blind, not deaf, right?” Cassie asked, bemused.

“Yes,” Rachel sighed. “That’s just her way. And I missed you, too, Santana.”

“You did?” Puck blurted and that wasn’t actually the first thing he wanted to say to her.

“Santana and I are both in agreement as to the success of glee being tantamount,” Rachel said. “Also, as soon as Santana became ‘top dog’, I noticed that 90% of the teasing by Cheerios abated.”

Mercedes immediately turned to Santana. “That was you?”

Santana gave a jerky shrug, unused to being the center of attention for something good. “Maybe.”

“I believe Quinn would have eventually enforced such an edict but her position was tenuous and she was ousted in a rather abrupt manner,” Rachel added. Hanging with the BRATs had added pot stirring to her favorite pastimes. 

Eyes shifted to Quinn, whose chin went up. “Teammates take care of one another.”

“I’m sure if I could see this,” Cassie mused from the steps, startling everyone, “that it would be just like those soap operas I remember.”

“Cassie, play nice,” Xander said as he hurried out the door, a hand reaching out to land on her shoulder as he passed. He saw the multitude of kids and two older males and startled. “Er, Mr. Abrams?”

“That’s me,” Artie’s dad said, looking a bit wary of the one-eyed guy in the black wife beater that showed off well-muscled arms. Xander, admittedly, looked disreputable.

But then he smiled and Mr. Abrams seemed to calm. “Here’s my personal number, Rachel’s already given me yours, and you can call me any time you feel worried. Co-ed sleepovers are worrying events.”

Mr. Abrams smiled brightly and Rachel suppressed a grin, letting Noah pull her closer until his arms circled her. Xander had done it again.

“Of course,” Mr. Abrams said, nodding. “I guess I’ll be going.” He looked at Artie, getting serious. “No funny business with the young ladies.”

“Dad,” Artie said, horrified. So horrifying their children really was a universal parental trait.

Mr. Abrams waved that away, opening the back of the van so that everyone could get their things. “Son, I was a teenager once myself.”

“Weren’t we all?” Xander said, wry grin on his face. 

Tina brought Artie his guitar and Kurt, in a fit of either team mindedness or romanticism, brought Noah his bag.

Mr. Abrams grinned broadly even as he said, “Well, it looks like I’m leaving you in good hands, son. Everyone behave.”

Then he got in his van and motored away.

“I, uh, thought I’d stay and help chaperon,” Mr. Schue said, shrugging when Xander looked his way.

“Whatever,” Xander shrugged, turning to look at Rachel who was admittedly very cozy. He raised an eyebrow but just said, “You’re going to be late for class, Rachel.”

And, glancing at her watch, she gave a muffled yelp, yanked Noah in for a short kiss, and took off running. This was going to be a fantastic weekend. Nothing could go wrong.


	10. Chapter 10

Puck was a little dazed. Rachel had kissed him like she was his girlfriend, then left him to the mercy of this girl with freaksome eyes. Mostly, though, it was the kissing. He’d kissed her before and it always felt like the first time, but perfect. 

“So, not to hurry you guys along,” Cassie said wryly, staring out blankly. “But there are three places we can hang while we wait for Rachel to be done. The library, with its crazy librarian; the cafeteria, with Andrew who will drive you crazy; or in a back division, where she’ll eventually find you.”

They all seemed to be weighing the chance to see more of the people at Rachel’s school vs. having her as a human shield.

Finally, though, Mr. Schue must have decided discretion was the better part of valor because he said, wary, “Back division.”

Puck rolled his eyes but followed after the girl after helping haul Artie up the front steps. Not that he wanted to hang out in the library, but still. Way to take the road of least resistance, Mr. Schue.

“Why is she having classes this late in the day?” Mr. Schue asked, probably trying to conversational and not confrontational but still managing to come off as a little of both.

“Our classes start a couple of hours later than normal schools, because we live here, anyway, and there aren’t any bussing issues,” Cassie shrugged. “Not to mention longer breaks and at least one study hall per student. The last class of the day always hits around five. Dinner will be served promptly at five fifteen.”

“Ah,” Mr. Schue said, sounding a little confounded.

Puck was too interested in the kick ass replication weapons hanging on the walls with plaques of prestige interspersed throughout. He reached up to run a finger along a blade and yelped when it sliced through.

Cassie automatically turned towards him. “You okay?”

“Besides the bleeding, yeah, sure,” he said, trying to staunch the blood flow.

She sighed, flailing out until her hand landed on a side table, then ran down the front until she found the handle. When she pulled out a Band-Aid, Puck’s eyebrows rose. Really, now, there was prepared and then there was stashing Band-Aids in random side tables.

“Every time,” she said, stepping forward. “Every time we get guests, one of them has to touch. These weapons you see hanging on the wall aren’t replications. They’re carefully restored pieces of war history and we would appreciate it if you wouldn’t touch them.”

“Isn’t that a health hazard?” Mr. Schue demanded as she reached Puck and helped him wrap the Band-Aid around his finger. Puck grimaced a little because, crap, not even badasses could pull off a Hello Kitty Band-Aid.

“No,” Cassie said. “They’re placed above where children that wouldn’t understand the dangers can reach, all students are aware of the rules regarding them, and no one but guests actually tries to touch them.”

She turned carefully and started to lead them again. Apparently that conversation was over.

Everyone kept their hands to themselves, even as they were more aware of the shiny, sharp stuff hanging on the wall. She led them past the kitchen where there was a giggle and a whumph! that sounded sort of like an explosion and Puck maybe hurried up to walk beside her because maybe she hadn’t been kidding about this Andrew driving them crazy.

Another room they passed sounded like there was a brawl going on, the door slamming shut just before he could see inside. Somebody yelled and there were crashes.

Mr. Schue, of course, stopped, worried. “Should we…?”

“No,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “A teacher is already on their way.”

As she said it, a tiny blond woman and a man in military fatigues ran past them, wrenching the door open and then slamming it behind them.

“Shall we?” Cassie said, tilting her head to indicate that they should move. There might have been a little smile playing around the edges of her mouth but she turned before Puck could really focus on her. The brawl behind the door had gone up in noise level to death match and then fallen eerily silent.

Finally, she turned down a plain white hallway, doors lining the walls. She led them all the way to the end and turned down a short hallway with only one door.

“BRAT division?” Puck couldn’t help but snort.

“Badass Research and Tech division,” Cassie said, a smile creeping over her face. 

Puck was drawn to it, even has her hand came up to gently brush over the plaque on the door, before she twisted the knob and walked in. He had a feeling she was the solemn type and smiling was rare for her.

He followed her into the room, expecting it to be as large as the other rooms they’d passed but it was smaller, more cozy and full of fucking books.

“I thought we weren’t going to the library,” he said, disgruntled.

“Oh, we didn’t,” she laughed, deftly dodging the stacks of books spread out across the room. “The library is four times as big as this room. This is actually Dawn’s personal collection.”

She was heading for the couch and Puck was pretty sure that that lump of blankets was actually a person, so he warned, “I think there’s somebody asleep on the couch.”

Her body barely hesitated before changing course for a bean bag close to the couch. “Thank you. Jordy must have had to bail on class today.”

“Won’t he get into trouble for that?” Artie asked, all the rest having followed them in and shut the door behind them.

“No,” Cassie shook her head. “Jordy’s got a condition and he always makes up the work he misses. The teaching staff is very understanding.”

Everybody was just standing there staring at her and the sleeping bundle of blankets. Finally, Puck rolled his eyes and moved over to plop down into the beanbag beside hers, asking, “So what do you guys do for fun?”

She laughed suddenly, stopped, then laughed again. “Well,” and another laugh, before she got a hold of herself and said, “We watch movies, translate books into English, and listen to music.”

“Translate them from what?” Mr. Schue asked, obviously unable to keep himself from asking, lowering himself carefully onto a beanbag.

Cassie shrugged, shifting so that her chin was propped on her knees and her hair partially curtained her face. “Whatever language they’re in. Etruscan, ancient Greek, whatever.”

“Well,” Mr. Schue said, rocking back, startled.

A corner of her mouth quirked. “We’re young, sir, but we earned our own division.”

“But you’re blind,” Artie said, like she needed reminding.

She grinned. “Yeah.”

And that was apparently the only explanation they were going to get. Which was okay because one of the bookcases slid open and a tall brunette girl who’d obviously just gotten out of the shower judging by her wet hair wobbled into the room.

“Um,” Artie said, startled.

“Hey,” the girl said, waving a hand. “I’m Dawn, you’re Rachel’s people, just give me a second to get situated, thank you.”

And none of them really knew what to say that, especially when she hauled a big, black bag out of the corner, plopped down beside Cassie, and pulled off her shirt. And, after Puck’s initial reaction of, ‘Hey, boobs!,’ he noticed the bruises.

“What the fuck?” he said, leaning in to get a closer look.

Her hand slapped onto his forehead, halting his forward progress, as she said, “Advanced physical protection class.”

“Ah, yeah,” Cassie said. “And the other reason the weapons on the wall aren’t really a hazard is because most of the students know how to use them.”

“Well,” Puck said, backing away as Dawn started to patch herself up. “That’s hot.”

But he was really thinking about Rachel with a sword in her hand and, okay, yeah, hot was the right reaction. 


	11. Chapter 11

Rachel was laughing when Danny hauled her into the BRAT’s room over his shoulder. She didn’t stop just because she saw New Directions spread about on beanbags, even as she tensed a little bit. Then Danny practically flung her onto the couch, which seemed much lumpier than normal, before he collapsed back into a beanbag beside Brittany. 

Rachel noticed she’d actually been flung onto Jordy and scooted down onto the narrow edge of couch showing, having every intention of getting up. But Jordy’s arm snaked out from under the blankets and wrapped tight around her waist and, while she would like to have moved closer to Noah, she knew there was no use arguing.

So she smiled at Noah, even as her hand wrapped gently around Jordy’s wrist. Three days a month, he needed coddling.

Danny, of course, had stopped paying her any attention as soon as he’d noticed the unfamiliar blond beside him. “Well, hello, m’lovely,” he said, Irish accent soft and lilting.

“Oh, cool,” Brittany said. “You’re Australian.”

“Close enough,” Danny laughed. “We’re both considered bastardized Brits, I suppose.”

Brittany perked up. “My name is Brittany but everyone calls me Brit.”

“Well, isn’t that lovely,” Danny said, smiling just for her.

Brittany blushed.

“Danny, stop flirting with Rachel’s people,” Kit said wearily, limping into the room.

“But Rachel’s people are such lovely people,” Danny said and, having thoroughly charmed Brittany, reached out and gently pulled Kit onto his lap.

And since she didn’t shove out of his lap at the first opportunity, she must have felt horrible because Kit never gave up her boundaries with Danny unless she had to. Dawn tossed the first aid kit as far across the room as she could, which meant it landed halfway between herself and Danny. Danny smirked, but just hooked a foot in one of the loops and pulled it closer while she stuck out her tongue at him.

“Damn it, Danny,” Kit hissed as he prodded her ankle and Rachel winced for her. 

“Hush, Kitty, m’love,” Danny murmured, not even really paying that much attention to her. “A wee sprain is all, I believe.”

Kit grabbed an ace bandage out of the bag and shoved out of his lap onto the floor, scooting back until her back hit the couch. “I could have told you that. And don’t call me Kitty. It’s Kit.”

“I think your girlfriend’s mad at you,” Artie whispered, eyebrows raised.

Kit snorted before Danny could do much more than smirk. “I’m not his girlfriend. Danny just tends to flirt with every girl he meets. The girl that finally ties him down is going to be something extraordinary.”

Dawn flopped over into Cassie’s lap, not caring if the strangers in their midst decided she was a lesbian from that act alone. “Or she’ll be just as incorrigible as he is.”

“Likely both,” Rachel said, shifting a little to see if Jordy would let her go.

But his arm tightened and he shifted, his head finally popping free of the blankets. “Cuddles,” he whined.

“Holy cracker,” Mercedes murmured, eyes widening.

Yes, alright, Jordy was pretty. Rachel was very aware that none of the BRATs were unattractive but she’d become slightly inured to it because they were just so very awkward.

“Mercedes, this is Jordan,” Rachel said, at a loss to explain that, while all the BRATs were very touch oriented people, she wasn’t actually dating any of them.

Jordan opened his eyes, his usual brown streaked slightly with a more animalistic gold, but he managed a polite smile. “Hey.”

Mercedes blushed and smiled. “Hi.”

Kit nudged Jordy’s knee. “Let Rachel go sit with her boyfriend and I’ll cuddle with you. I want off the floor, anyway.”

Jordy sighed and the arm around her waist loosened. Rachel petted his face, ignoring the scowling Noah was dishing out, before slipping free and moving to sit beside Noah. 

Kit carefully maneuvered up onto the couch and lay down as Noah leaned into her, possessively taking her hand, and murmured, “What the hell, Berry?”

“The BRATs are all orphans,” she murmured back, having no illusions that the others couldn’t hear her. “They’re touch deprived, so they touch one another more often. This is _their_ room, Noah, and they’ll act however they want in it.”

Dawn snickered. “Yeah, but we don’t make out with one another or anything.”

“More’s the pity,” Danny sighed, twisting slightly to grin at Brittany who once again blushed.

Rachel occasionally wished that her new friends could at least pretend that they were a little bit normal. Butting into private conversations was normally considered rude.

Rachel squeezed Noah’s hand. “They don’t mean anything by it, Noah. Their personal boundaries are just more flexible than the average person’s.”

“Unfortunately,” Connor said as he came in, collapsing into the middle of the floor and disturbing those that weren’t used to his antics.

“Andrew can’t help it he got mixed signals from you, Connor Angel,” Rachel immediately began to lecture. “Hugging and other such expressions of friendship, frivolity and joy can often be misconstrued by one as socially awkward as Andrew.”

“I know,” he said glumly, rolling over onto his back and looking at her. He, of course, looked like someone had run him over with a car but he didn’t complain or reach for the first aid kit, so he was likely fine. “We’re weird and confusing in social contexts, I get it. I just would prefer if he’d understand that I’m not gay. He’s welcome to fly his freak flag as high and proud as he wants. I just want him to stop trying to plant it in my yard. I like smooth legs and big,” he held his hands, cupped, over his chest.

“Connor!” most of the girls in the room yelled, scowling.

“Next train of thought,” Rona said, hobbling in and the bookcase finally closing behind her. “’Cause I know you don’t want to keep going on that one, Angelson.”

Connor bared his teeth at her in a faux grin. “Where’s Carlos?”

Rona kicked him in the hip as she moved past and pulled herself up to sit on the arm of the couch. “Keeping your ass out of trouble with Giles.”

“Connor,” Rachel scolded but, secretly, she was amused. Connor almost always had some prank in the works against several of the Old School Watchers because they just didn’t treat the Slayers in a way Connor appreciated.

“How is old Habersham?” Connor asked, a sharp grin slashing across his face.

“Terrified,” Rona said wryly.

Connor snickered but didn’t elaborate.

Danny poked him in the shoulder with the toe of his boot. “Ye burned.” And he might have been laughing at him.

“Shut up, you green blooded, Blarney stone French kissing Mick,” Connor grumbled.

“His name’s not Mick, it’s Danny,” Brittany offered helpfully.

“Mick’s another word for Irish,” Danny said.

“But you’re Australian,” she said, baffled.

“No, love, I’m their slightly distant cousin of the Irish persuasion,” he said cheerfully.

Rachel was pretty sure, despite the starry eyed look she was giving him, Brittany hadn’t understood any of that.

Carlos bounced into the room, not looking any worse for wear, and announced, “Connor, you’re a dead man. Also, dinner’s up.”

And the BRATs scrambled because the Academy was a school full of Slayers and if they didn’t get there first, they wouldn’t get any of the good stuff.

Rachel was left staring at her baffled friends. She could have tried to explain or distracted them. Instead she just shrugged as she stood and smiled, “Welcome to Summers’ Academy.”

   
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering who Danny is, he's an OC. When I first started writing stories that had the Brats in them, I could have sworn that Doyle from _Angel_ talked about a brother or a son named Danny. Upon further research, I learned that to be incorrect, but I was already terribly fond of Danny, so he tends to pop up when I write Brats stories. Just, fyi.


	12. Chapter 12

Dinner went okay. Puck wasn’t all that sure what he was putting in his mouth but he was a teenage boy and it tasted good, so he didn’t really need to know the specifics. The little blond guy mooning over Connor out the kitchen door was weird and slightly uncomfortable but the BRATs rolled with it, so Puck didn’t feel the need to point it out.

He did slide his eyes toward Hummel, who looked more and more uncomfortable every time a sigh managed to carry clear across the room from the kitchen to their table because, yeah, he was that obvious sometimes with Finn and it really was that awkward.

After dinner, they all trooped back to the BRATs room and Rachel automatically turned on the radio system that looked new but still managed to fit the hodgepodge décor. (Seriously, Puck needed new friends. Décor, jeez.)

Nobody’s Listening by Linkin Park pumped out of the radio and Danny automatically started to swing Rachel around the cramped room, a hard, bouncing kind of choreography that seemed to require him to have his hands _everywhere_. Puck didn’t like it, but he was struck by how Rachel’s voice was mixing with Danny’s, less polished than normal and more raw. Also, it wasn’t show tunes or pop, so this had to be more the BRAT’s style of music, not that he doubted Rachel’s ability to talk them into listening to musicals.

She spun into Puck’s chest, words trailing off, and eyes softening.

He couldn’t help himself, he leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. The glee club stifled giggles but her friends, these BRATs, they hooted and hollered and finally she pulled away laughing.

“You’re all incorrigible,” she said, shaking her head, even as she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest.

“Yeah, well,” Dawn said, shrugging. “You never met Anya, so you don’t understand how quickly kissing can lead to gratuitous PDA and TMI.”

Kit snorted into her hand, remembering the one time she met Anya. Then she gave it up, laughing as she fell over and nodding her head. 

“Rachel,” Artie said, butting into a conversation none of them could really understand. He moved closer and Puck noticed a slow song had started to play on the radio. “Dance?”

He held out his hand to her and she smiled and took it as Cassie started to sing along with the radio, “ _Pennies in a well, million dollars in the fountain of a hotel. Fortune teller says maybe you won’t go to hell. But I'm not scared at all...hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm. The cracks in the crystal, the cracks in the crystal ball._ ”

It was light, lilting, simple. And Mr. Schue was watching her as Danny gently started to dance her around the room. Even when she spun away from him, she didn’t step on anyone, topple any books, or trip over anything. And, damn it, blind or not, the girl could dance and her singing wasn’t bad either. And, call him slow, but this was a mixed tape or CD or whatever because there weren’t any commercials or DJ’s and besides, most channels wouldn’t be caught dead mixing the type of music that was on that CD.

Puck leaned against the wall, arms crossed as Rachel danced with Artie, making it up as she went along and both of them were having a blast. And there were no hands in inappropriate places and that had nothing to do with the fact that Puck had once put Abrams in a port-a-pot once with every intention of rolling the sucker and everything to do with the fact that he and Artie had found a common ground in guitars and there was _respect_ there.

His eyes slid over to Danny in time to see him spin Cassie out a little too hard and for her to collide soundly with Mike’s chest. Mike, never one to pass up the opportunity to dance, took her in his arms and had her giggling through a stanza.

The song drew to a close and Cassie let her hands drift up and over Mike’s face. “Thank you very much.”

Mike grinned, standing still while her fingers gently floated over his face. “You’re welcome. And call me Mike.”

“You have a very definitive bone structure, Mike,” Cassie said, her fingers coming to rest on his chest. “I bet I could draw you.”

“But you’re blind,” he said quietly and Puck bit back a snort. Way to state the obvious, Chang.

“Don’t bet against her,” Dawn said, cutting in on her humming, laughing.

“She’s freakishly accurate,” Kit nodded, hips swishing as some girl on the radio belted it out.

There was a knock on the door and Faith stuck her head on the door. “C baby, it’s time for your lessons.”

Cassie carefully pulled away from Mike. “Yeah, alright.”

Puck held up his thumbs to Mike as she passed because, for real, that was just totally smooth from a guy that normally couldn’t pull smooth off with a map and a guiding hand.

Cassie caught one of his hands on her way out the door, tiny fingers wrapping around his thumb. “Don’t tease,” she murmured, light blush sweeping up her cheeks.

He might have been wrong but there was the slightest chance that there was blue in her eyes instead of just white. Puck swallowed, dropping his hands, and she glided past.

“I thought lessons were done for the day,” Mr. Schue said, frowning.

“Cassie has special lessons,” Dawn said, spinning and bumping into Matt, smiling when he took up the challenge and started dancing with her. “We all do, actually, but Cassie’s are the last of the day and always alone.”

“She doesn’t mind being set apart?” Artie asked, not necessarily liking where that train was headed.

Rachel, once again snuggled into Puck, said staunchly, “Everyone here tries their best to be their best. That said, Cassie’s lessons have to be specifically formulated to meet her special needs while acknowledging her gifts. Plus, this is special training, beyond what the other children get.”

And something in Puck’s brain went ping! The question Mr. Abrams had asked echoed back to him and seemed to just flow right out his mouth, “Berry? What kind of school is this?”

He tightened his arms around Rachel when she tensed, sort of afraid that if he let her go, she’d be all offended and wouldn’t let him touch her again.

Because there was a girl with her own personal library, a passel of orphans, and special lessons which probably had something to do with swords (still a hot idea, by the way). And that in no way explained what the hell kind of school this was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: The songs in this chapter are Nobody's Listening from Linkin Park and Crystal Ball by Pink. Youtube them at your leisure.


	13. Chapter 13

Rachel froze, her brain skittering to the question and away again.

“It’s a school that focuses, in equal parts, on the mind, the body, and the soul,” Dawn said as Matt gently spun her out, then pulled her back in.

And Rachel relaxed because, while she had little to no experience with obfuscation, Dawn had lived in lies for years. She could genuinely tell someone something and have them not know whether she was lying. Rachel wasn’t afraid to admit that the first time she’d seen Dawn do it, she’d been a little jealous because, in some ways, Dawn was a better actress. Of course, Rachel was a better singer, so it evened out in the end.

Rachel pulled out of her reverie and noticed Noah staring intently at her. Icy dread trickled down her spine. Noah was nearly as accomplished a liar as Dawn.

Fortunately, she was saved by knocking on the door.

Spike stuck his head in the door, cigarette hanging from his lips. “Con, phone.”

Connor’s face flickered, then shut down and he shuffled for the door. Spike ran a gentling hand over his head. “Nothing to start the weekend off right like a call from dear old dad, eh?”

Connor just grumbled, stilling under his hand.

“Are you two brothers?” Brittany burbled, completely oblivious to the stress radiating from Connor’s body.

“No,” Connor said, scowling. “But we are related.”

And he was gone before anyone else could ask anything of him.

Then Spike turned to Rachel, who was still wrapped up in Noah’s arms, and her relief to see him faded at the look of menacing mischief that came into his eye.

“Rachel, dove, who’s this pillock?” Spike asked, tone as sweet as you please.

Noah tensed and she pressed a hand into his stomach as she said, “Spike, this is Noah Puckerman. My boyfriend.”

Finn’s jaw dropped, like the kissing and cuddling hadn’t been hint enough, but Spike prowled forth before he could say anything.

“Suppose he knows your Papas are nancies?” Spike asked, still very pleasant. Rachel, used to Spike’s verbosity, rolled her eyes and nodded her head. “Suppose he reckons that _because_ your folks are nancies, they won’t carry out any threats they make,” he mused and before she could protest, she was nose to pecs with his chest and Noah was being held to the wall with one hand. “Since they can’t inspire you to be a gentleman, let me. Treat our darlin’ Rachel with disrespect or a heavy hand and I’ll rip your head off and shove it up your-”

“Spike!” All the BRATs yelled with varying degrees of disgust, dismay, and amusement.

“Clear, concise warnings are best,” Spike said.

Noah’s broad muscular body tensed under his hand as Spike gave a chilling smile. Rachel was slightly terrified because it would have been easy for Noah to disregard Spike’s whipcord lean yet infinitely more powerful frame. But Noah was utterly still behind her, so that animal instincts to survive must have been checking overdrive.

Suddenly Spike was half way across the room leaning against Artie’s chair.

Artie, looking a mix of terrified and thoughtful, held out a hand and said, “Artie Abrams, Rachel’s friend. Well said, if well meant.”

Spike took Artie’s hand, bemused. “She’s owed my protection. She’s one of me ‘bits, after all.”

Artie’s brows furrowed. “I thought they were BRATs.”

“To everyone else,” Spike smirked, winking at Rachel. And she couldn’t help it. She blushed, looking down. “But they’re my tasty little niblets, yeah?”

“Way to sound pornographic, Spike,” Dawn said, now pretty much just swaying in Matt’s arms. Matt, who in no way was protesting to holding onto a lithe yet curvy girl.

Spike turned to her and probably would have popped off (or threatened Matt) but Xander said from the open doorway, “Spike, that’s enough. What have we said about messing with the guests?”

“Only on special occasions,” Spike stated as though he was reading it out of a rule book. He grinned maliciously. “Meet Rachel’s boyfriend, Fuckerman.”

Xander’s eyebrow went up as he turned to Rachel, forgetting to tell Spike to watch his language. “Oh. Well then. Um.” He turned back to Spike. “Faith needs help setting up the planetarium. Er, Rach, since you’ve got so many guests, we can’t just let them pile into your room.”

“That’s alright,” Rachel nodded.

Honestly, that was perfect. It was the most magical yet ordinary room in the building and it wouldn’t take much to explain away the anomalies anyone might notice.

“Mr. Harris, I have to request that you keep your…associate from touching one of my students,” Mr. Schue said, scowling.

“Spike doesn’t work at the school,” Xander said instantly, obviously used to excusing Spike’s behavior. “As such, he’s responsible for his own actions. If you’ve got issues with him, you’re more than welcome to take them up with him.”

Spike turned to look at Mr. Schue straight on, a daring smile curving his lips. Mr. Schue pursed his lips, shifted on his feet, then looked away. Smart move on Mr. Schue’s part but Rachel couldn’t help but think that if it had been Finn Spike had threatened, Mr. Schue would have argued more or even been aggressive in his defense.

Spike and Xander disappeared down the hallway, leaving Rachel to the mercy of her friends. 

Finn’s mouth opened but the timer on Carlos’s watch went off and he said, “Rach, we’ve gotta go see Giles. We’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Rachel’s insides tightened in alarm and she was beginning to think having someone visit before her six months were up was a bad idea. She wasn’t good at prevaricating and, despite the fact that few of them had ever been precisely _kind_ to her, she was connected to New Directions in an intrinsic way.

“Rachel,” Finn said, finally getting her attention as the BRATs scrambled around gathering impressively thick files. “Are you really Puck’s girlfriend?”

Noah hadn’t moved any closer to her after Spike, but she still felt him tense

“Before I answer your question, I need you to answer one of mine,” Rachel said, fingers starting to twist in front of her. She was grateful for Dawn’s encouraging smile just before she closed the door behind her, but Rachel would have felt better if the BRATs were here. They never judged. They couldn’t afford to. “Wednesday, when Artie told everyone we had been speaking, did he give you my number?”

“Well, yeah,” Finn shrugged. “He texted it to me.”

“But you didn’t call,” Rachel said, feeling a significant urge to shake him.

“We were coming to visit you. It was a surprise,” Finn said, stepping towards her. “I could wait until we saw you and convinced you to come back to Glee.”

That tiny piece of her heart that had been Finn Hudson’s tore and she stepped back, bumping softly into Noah’s chest. “Noah called,” Rachel said as Noah’s hands came up to rub her arms. “Noah texted me, Finn. He didn’t care that he would see me in two days. He wanted me, and not just because I’m a superlative singer.”

“Trust me, Berry, the singing’s only half the draw,” Noah murmured, dipping his nose into her hair and making her belly fluttery.

“You don’t want me, Finn,” Rachel said quietly, shaking her head even as her hands came up to cover Noah’s. “The only time you want me is when you can’t have me.”

“That’s not true!” Finn said, working up to a yell. “How can you say that? How can you choose Puck over me?”

“It’s not about me choosing someone over you, Finn,” Rachel said calmly, although her heart was aching. “It’s about Noah choosing me with no ulterior motives.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Finn said, swinging between anger and confusion.

“It means Noah wants me for himself and you want me for my talent, which, while a significant part of me, is only a part of the whole,” Rachel said, trying to explain but knowing that at a certain point, Finn wasn’t going to be hearing anything but what he wanted to hear. “So, yes, Noah is my boyfriend.”

And she thought, for just a second, that he got it. That he understood. But apparently he had reached the end of his endurance because he turned to Mr. Schue and said, pained, “I want to go home.”

Mr. Schue looked at the other kids, concerned, “Finn…”

“It’s okay, Mr. Schue,” Rachel said quietly. “The Academy teachers handle more difficult students all the time. You may leave.”

It was odd, dismissing a teacher.

And he probably wouldn’t have gone, except there was a light rap on the door and Mr. Giles stepped in, saying, “Miss Berry, the planetarium is prepared.”

“Thank you, Mr. Giles,” she said, nodding. “Mr. Schue has to escort Finn home as he’s not feeling well, but he’s not comfortable leaving so many students without a chaperone.”

“I’ll see to it that one of the teachers comes down to keep an eye on you,” Mr. Giles said, a twinkle in his eye. Sadly, just because he was the headmaster, didn’t mean he was above shenanigans. “Also, Xander has to go pick up a new student, so Mr. Schue needn’t make an unnecessary return trip.”

“Thank you, Mr. Giles,” Rachel said and he withdrew with a nod. She turned to Mr. Schue. “I hope that alleviates your concerns.”

Mr. Schue nodded stiltedly, clapping Finn on the shoulder. “Of course. Thank you, Rachel.”

They left as Artie asked, “Wasn’t that guy the headmaster?”

“Yes, but Mr. Giles doesn’t especially like the term,” Rachel said, shrugging. “Something about his own boarding school days and caning.”

And demons, but she didn’t mention that. Mr. Giles was very open about his past and, even if he wasn’t, Dawn knew the best stories about teaching staff.

Rachel led the way to the planetarium, having noticed that several of her fellow Glee clubbers had been unusually quiet during the evening and unwilling to engage in wishful thinking that their internal contemplations would last. She could only hope that their conclusions were positive and that some measure of perfection could be salvaged from this weekend.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Puck was a little shell-shocked. Nobody chose him over Finn Hudson. Hell, his own mother jonesed after having him as a son. Yet, Finn had offered, in his own way, and Rachel had blown him off, politely, of course. And now Finn was gone, back to Lima, taking Mr. Schue with him.

In the history of Noah Puckerman, it was a delightful and unexpected first. And, of course Rachel forfeiting the change at a relationship with Finn had Quinn and Kurt looking at her contemplatively, no doubt questioning her motives and sanity.

She was gripping his hand, obviously nervous at the attention but not outwardly showing it. Mostly, though, he was struck by how very tiny she was. He always forgot until he was touching her. Otherwise, Rachel Berry was larger than life and uncontainable. 

They turned down a dark hallway and it looked like they were walking through stars. It was mesmerizing and Puck had a second where he just wanted to stop her and dance slowly, then kiss her in this magical space.

“Damn, girl,” Mercedes said reverently.

“Jordan theorized that, while the universe may have been created with the Big Bang, alternate universes are created with little bangs, which start, basically, with the split that comes from having two decisions. This is the beginning, where no decisions have been made and is rather simple and linear. The room we’ll be staying in is most definitely a theoretical model, so ignore any discrepancies you might see.”

“Way to take the wonder out of it, Berry,” Santana said. She might have been going for bitchtastic, but she missed by a mile. There was true glee, like she normally only got when she really got into the music.

“Oh no,” Rachel said quietly, perfectly suitable for the space they were in. “No, this is just a twinkling hallway. The room we’re going to be staying in? It’s pure magic. And I didn’t want to have to explain once we got inside because that, most definitely, would have been untimely.”

Of course, when they walked in, the room was dark. They all crowded in, tight together because they really couldn’t see in front of them. Then the show started, a huge bang sounded through the room and masses exploded and reformed and continued to change for at least ten minutes until it appeared to be the solar system they were most used to. And they weren’t confined to a screen on the ceiling, either. There were holographs or whatever swirling through the room, putting the Gleeks right in the middle of it.

Puck wasn’t into science, didn’t get NASA’s purpose, didn’t care about the things, large or small, that could be learned from the class. But this was cool.

“Who has a planetarium in their school?” Hummel asked, kind of snotty, although there was wonder there, too.

“Mr. Giles is very lenient with the BRATs and they spend the summers here, so it’s not like they don’t have the time to set something like this up. But Jordan was the driving force, the others pitching in where necessary,” Rachel said, stepping out into the middle of the floor, still looking up with a smile on her face.

“Not even Connor goes home?” Quinn asked quietly, drawing eyes to her. She was watching Rachel intently. “Since he’s got a father and Spike.”

“I don’t really understand the dynamics between the three of them fully,” Rachel said, scowling. “I just know that Connor is a year round student and a full-fledged BRAT.”

Puck stepped out further onto the floor and was a little startled by the squishiness of the floor. “What the hell?” he asked, looking down.

She laughed, lighting up. “The middle of the floor is for laying and looking up at the solar system. They used some kind of gel to make it softer.”

A husky laugh drifted out of the dark and Puck wrapped his hand around Rachel’s. He wasn’t scared. Unsettled, maybe, but the Puckster didn’t get scared. If his eyes bugged when the hottie that’d come to get the little blind girl earlier drifted into the light, still in her leathers, well, he was a teenage boy and this woman was working to redefine the definition of hotness.

Rachel sighed quietly before saying, “Everyone, this is Faith who is apparently going to be our chaperone.”

A smirk curled one corner of Faith’s mouth, dark eyes dancing. “Don’t sound so prissy, Rach. You won’t even know I’m here. Unless I want you to.”

There was maybe a threat in there somewhere, something a little wicked about it, but Rachel just rolled her eyes and said drolly, “Thank you, Miss Faith.”

Miss Faith snorted and Puck got the feeling she wasn’t hardly this indulgent with most people. “Welcome, Rach. Now, the toilets are over there, the kitchen’s open all night, and if I catch anybody macking on anybody else, I crack heads. Other than that, have fun.”

And she faded back into the swirling dark of the room. A few seconds later, a cigarette lit several feet above the floor.

Rachel turned to them, face lit up. “So, what are we going to do first?”

   
 


	15. Chapter 15

Rachel was almost positive her head was about to explode. This weekend was supposed to be _perfect_. Yet, there was Dawn in the doorway in what she considered nightclothes which, in actual fact, was one of Mr. Miller’s ginormous Army shirts that she’d pilfered from the laundry. It reached mid-thigh, but still. There was a reason Danny had called her a walking enticement for the Armed Forces when she traipsed around in it.

Matt certainly seemed to like it because he made a distinctly approving grunt even as Rachel rose to see what was going on. Dawn wasn’t one to interrupt anyone’s personal time. Something about interrupting no-no stuffs enough to be scarred. Sometimes Dawn just didn’t make much sense, if you hadn’t known her forever.

“What?” Rachel hissed, glancing anxiously back at New Directions. They’d been conversing in a rather normal manner. Rachel was pretty sure it was something teenage girls experienced regularly, minus the various males present.

Dawn cleared her throat and shifted uncomfortably, playing with the hem of her ‘nightshirt’. Rachel heard Matt whimper, “Sweet baby Jesus,” all the way across the room and a delicate blush swept up Dawn’s cheeks.

Dawn leaned in, ignoring the boy going into vapors behind Rachel. “Have you seen Dana?”

And Rachel went cold, body stilling. She heard a soft thud and a startled breath being drawn, which made it even more likely that Faith had leaped from her perch and was coming towards them. She ignored all that, though, because Dana was the boogey man. Well, the Slayer version, anyway. Slayers had a hard time fearing anything but the one thing all of them were uncomfortable with was the idea of losing control of themselves, especially as thoroughly as Dana had. Of course, to hear people talk, Dana had never had any control and she was a blight on the Council and if the Old School Watchers had their way, she’d have been put down like a rabid dog before she’d even gotten out of California. There had to be some truth to it because everybody knew that Xander had struck an Old School Watcher over Dana. 

“She’s out?” Faith asked, coming to stand beside Rachel.

“Xander went to check on her before going to bed and she was gone,” Dawn said, voice pitched low. “Everybody’s out looking for her. I thought I’d just come down and see if she’d made it this far.”

“We haven’t seen her,” Rachel said faintly, shaking her head.

Faith set a hand on her shoulder even as she said, “I’ll go help the others search. D, stay with Rachel and her people.”

And Faith was gone and Rachel was numb. Dawn took her by the arm and shook her. “It’s okay, Rach.”

“She cut off Spike’s hands,” Rachel said weakly, looking her in the eyes. “His _hands_ , Dawn.”

Dawn nodded, face as serious as it ever got. “She’s not alone in her head, Rach. She saw him do bad things to other slayers, thought he’d done them to her family, and she struck out. She’s mostly harmless, now.”

Rachel was stunned. “She cut off his hands, Dawn,” she hissed. “She can’t be _harmless_.”

“She is,” Dawn corrected. “It’s why she’s still alive. If she hadn’t made improvements, the Old School Watchers would have won the vote. She and Spike sit together for an hour every night. And, well, maybe harmless is overstating, but she’s definitely getting better.”

Rachel started to relax until a haunting giggle sounded behind Dawn and Dawn froze. Rachel peered over Dawn’s shoulder and a teenage girl she’d never seen before was almost blending into the shadows, despite her prim white nightgown. Dawn turned slowly, her grip on Rachel’s arm inexorably tight and blue eyes wide.

“Hi,” the girl who had to be Dana said, lifting a hand and wiggling her fingers. It was probably the least threatening gesture Rachel had ever seen, so she lifted her own hand and wiggled her fingers back. “Sing?” Dana asked.

“Holy crap,” Dawn blurted, bursting into motion and pulling her iPhone out from who knew where. She twiddled with it for a moment, then said, wonderingly, “Her room’s right above yours.”

And Rachel went completely loose, tension fleeing her. “I sing every night before I go to bed.”

“Ah,” Dawn said, rocking back a little as she came to the same conclusion Rachel had. “She wants you to sing her to sleep.”

“Sing,” Dana said hopefully and Rachel was beginning to doubt that she’d actually cut anyone’s hands off. Until she moved, going from in the doorway to standing right in front of Rachel and Dawn. Then, oh yes, Rachel could believe it. “Sing. Please.”

And Rachel opened her mouth, because music was always the one thing she understood, the one thing that had never failed her. “ _Catch a Falling Star_ …”

She sung through a stanza before Kurt moved up beside her, winding her hand with his, swaying the two of them as they wove their voices together. A dreamy smile curved the corner of Dana’s mouth, eyes fluttering shut until she finally pressed her hands over her face and swayed with them. It might have all been completely eerie if it all weren’t so very sad.

When they were through with the song, Rachel looked past Dana’s slumped shoulders and saw Xander leaning against the doorway, Faith just behind him. He gave her a little smile before pushing off the facing with an impressive display of muscles and moved slowly towards them, gently settling a hand Dana’s shoulder.

“Shh,” she whispered, not uncovering her face. “Sleeping.”

A soft look crossed Xander’s face and then he gently scooped Dana up, letting her curl into him and finally go totally lax in slumber. Xander nodded to her, walking backwards a few steps before turning and walking out the door. Faith nodded somberly to them before following after them.

“They’re protecting her,” Rachel said quietly. “That’s why they let everyone think she’s a monster. They’re trying to protect her.”

“She can’t handle the bigger groups,” Dawn shrugged. “She’s getting better, though, Rachel. I swear. She’ll never be normal, but she might be able to cope with the real world one day.”

Kurt cleared his throat, cutting off Rachel’s study of Dawn’s face. Rachel looked at him and flushed. He was often her most staunch detractor, but he made her push herself, probably more than anyone else ever had.

“What,” he asked, truly baffled, “was that?”

Since he’d heard what Dawn told her, Rachel looked to her to do the explaining. Dawn just had the gift of making the implausible seem real.

“Dana’s special,” Dawn said, shrugging.

“Like I’m special,” Artie said, rubbing his hands over the arms of his chair. The others were grouped behind him, waiting for something that made sense to be said.

“No,” Dawn said seriously, shaking her head. “You’re downright normal compared to Dana. She walked through horrors and came out terribly broken. We’re trying to help her put those pieces back together but it takes time and we don’t always know how she’ll react to certain things. Like a room full of strangers.”

“But she wasn’t interested in us,” Kurt said, seeming to grasp how bad things could have gone.

Dawn looked at Rachel, a small smile curling the edges of her lips. “She just wanted to be sung to sleep.”

And Rachel blushed. At the end of her six months, she was going to have a hard decision to make. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to Lima without the BRATs at her back. She’d forgotten, for just the little while she’d been with New Directions, that the BRATs were the best friends she’d ever had. Noah took her hand, seeming to see some struggle on her face and that honestly didn’t help. She was torn.

   
 


	16. Chapter 16

The next day, compared to the first, was peaceful. The Gleeks chose to stay in the planetarium instead of the much smaller BRATs office and Rachel stayed with them. Actually, they only saw the BRATs occasionally, one at a time, and usually in a hurry to be somewhere else. It all felt like the calm before the storm to Puck.

And the Academy just seemed increasingly hinky, especially when Rachel had to leave them after lunch for ‘a class’. Whoever heard of having a class on Saturday afternoon? A class that guests weren’t welcome to attend?

Dawn came in before any of them could decide to go wandering, stack of books and notebooks cradled in her arms. “Hey. I hope you guys don’t mind, but everybody else is at class.”

“Is that shit, like, time sensitive?” Puck asked, motioning to the pile of books and glad he regularly marathoned spy movies. ‘Time Sensitive’ definitely sounded official and if it was official, then maybe she’d give him what he wanted. 

She looked down at the musty old books in her arms, then looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Not particularly. Why?”

“I was wondering if we could have a tour,” he said, shifting a little. 

She pondered that and he tensed. He wouldn’t really know what was going on until he’d had a closer look at the place. Right now, everything just read as seriously hinky. 

“I guess we could do that. We’d just have to leave a note for Rachel, in case she comes back early,” Dawn said, shrugging. If she was seriously reluctant, she wasn’t showing it.

As Dawn scribbled a note, Quinn came up beside him, hand rubbing over her distended belly, and murmured, “So none of this is reading right to you, either.”

“It’s all a little too weird,” he murmured back with a defensive jerk of his shoulder.

Then Dawn tacked the note to the door with a damned knife from her boot and turned to smile at them like she hadn’t done anything weird. “Ready?” she chirped.

They might have been staring at her like she was an alien with two bulbous heads but Puck managed to nod, so they were off.

Matt bumped shoulders with him and mumbled, “That was hot, right? Weird, but hot.”

And since he heard more concern about the weird than breathless anticipation about the hotness, Puck tried to be reassuring. “Totally hot.”

And since they were both teenage boys, Matt relaxed because that was as much reassurance as he needed.

So she led them around, narrating slightly, and it was mostly just a big, fancy boarding school with classrooms and dorms and a gigantic library with a seriously creepy librarian. And, besides the plethora of weaponry on the walls, Puck was beginning to feel a little stupid because obviously, it was just a school. The people they passed, although looking at them in askance, even looked normal. Normalish. Puck had never seen so much tweed in his _life_ , but other than that, they looked normal.

And then they finally made it to the gym. And _that_ was hinkydom central. Connor and Jordy, who apparently bounced back fast from his _condition_ , were doing martial arts moves with staffs on the edge of the mat. The rest of the mat was taken up by girls beating the crap out of each other. It would’ve been hot if it hadn’t been so startling. 

“Come on,” Dawn said, moving them towards the stands. “Don’t step on the mat. If you’re on the mat, you’re fair game.”

Everybody instantly started watching where their feet were going. Puck had just seen a ninety pound girl flip Danny over her shoulder with the ease it would take Puck to snap a pencil. No way he wanted to get any of their way. 

When they got there, Dawn pursed her lips as she stared down at Artie’s chair. “There’s a flat area around the top, around the announcers’ table. How comfortable are you with your friends carrying you up steps?”

“I trust them,” Artie said after a brief second, pushing his glasses up his nose as he stared up at her. The glasses thing was a tell and that meant that he was either nervous or lying, but Puck didn’t blame him. The stairs were steep and Finn wasn’t there to help.

Dawn nodded, though, looking a little relieved. “Good. A few of them still have to do alley-oops, so we’d just have to move again when they started.”

Matt grabbed one side, Mike the other, and Puck caught the front to keep him balanced and they all headed up the stairs. Tina stayed close behind Artie, ready to grab the handles of his chair if he started to tip, but they made it without anything bad happening. And when they turned around, well…Puck would be the first to tell you it was worth it.

“Oh my God,” Santana said, sounding completely shocked.

Because, yeah, several of the girls were doing martial arts of one kind or another, a few bladed weapons tossed in for the added danger element, but several more were working on gymnastics and the stunts they were pulling put anything the Cheerios had ever tried, including the stilts thing, to shame.

“Ms. Sylvester never needs to know,” Hummel said, looking about ready to piss his pants. Which, yeah, if Puck had to answer to that psycho, he’d probably be terrified, too. Mostly, though, he was just turned on. _So many_ flexible bodies. 

“Ah,” Dawn said, sounding amused. Everybody looked at her and, yeah, she was definitely laughing at them. “Isn’t Sylvester some kind of coach?”

“Cheerleading coach,” Santana snapped before her eyes were drawn back to the display of grace going on before her.

“Uh huh,” she said, before shaking her head. “Look, we don’t compete any of the competitions or anything. I mean, we’ll do inner school competitions but we don’t compete with anybody else.”

“D!” Faith yelled before anybody could answer, looking up at them. Dawn raised her eyebrows in question and Faith called, “If you’re gonna be in the gym, be on the floor. You know the rules.”

Dawn winced slightly, hand automatically going to the ribs Puck had seen bruised up yesterday. “Goody.”

“You can go,” Artie said, looking just as worried. “We’ll be fine.”

“Too late,” she said with a slight grimace. “I’ll be fine. And Carlos will come up to sit with you.”

“Why doesn’t he have to fight?” Puck asked, a little peeved. Carlos hadn’t been banged up yesterday, either.

Her face took on an amused lilt. “Believe it or not, Carlos is grounded, so no gym time for him. Which means he’ll have to work twice as hard to catch up. Now, I gotta go change before Faith decides I need to do this in my skirt.”

Whoa, mental image. It took Puck a moment to focus and by the time he did, she was gone and Carlos was hopping up the stairs towards them.

“Hey,” he said, smiling a little as he settled down beside them.

“What did you get grounded for?” Puck demanded.

Carlos smiled grandly. “Starting a fight with a teacher. Well, mostly because I won the fight, but whatever. I’m down to research and meditation. I don’t even get to go to regular classes for a week.”

“That’s…unusual,” Artie offered hesitantly.

“Not around here,” Carlos shrugged. “And enough black marks and I either get shuffled to England or get kicked out. And, trust me, most people would rather be kicked out. England’s branch is so stuffy and martial, it puts West Point to shame.”

“Switch up!” Faith shouted, drawing their attention to the floor. They saw that Dawn had changed into the same yoga-esque attire she’d been wearing yesterday.

Connor gave up his staff and headed towards a balance beam that was settled right in front of the area of the announcers’ booth. He suddenly took a flying leap, landed perfectly, and started to gracefully bounce around like a squirrel. He slowed at one point, resting upside down on his forearms as his body arched in a sharp ‘C’. Hummel looked like he was seriously about to go into vapors and Santana kept rubbing her thighs together and none of it was helped by the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Even Puck had to admit that he was ripped. After he’d worked his way up and down the beam twice, he pulled matching swords from sheaths on the side of the thing and started bouncing around slicing at air.

“I have died and gone to heaven,” Hummel announced breathlessly and Puck was maybe starting to feel a little bad for Connor. The dude just could not stop the homo attraction.

And Puck was also a little grateful he hadn’t given in and tried to punch him because he was 90% sure he’d have gotten his ass kicked and Puck was badass enough to admit it. 

“A to the men,” Mercedes breathed when Jordy and Danny, also sans shirts, ran halfway up the stands and started backflipping back down them. Assuming that was what Dawn meant by alley-ooping, Puck wondered how nobody had died from a broken neck because that looked like some seriously tricky shit.

The sad part, really, was that the guys were blocking the view of the floor and Puck still hadn’t managed to place Rachel yet. Artie, though, grabbed his arm and pointed, dragging him sideways so that he was looking in around the same area.

And there she was, hair pushed back by a broad purple headband with yellow stars scattered on it, encased in a tight work out T and flowing yoga pants, all in shades of purple and black. She was practicing some kind of technique with Rona that involved a lot of kicking and, as they did it in unison, Puck was suddenly maybe having hot flashes because good God. She was hot and she was his and life was suddenly looking up.

“Stretch it out!” Faith yelled, still pacing the floor like some giant, deadly cat. Everybody followed her proclamation, starting to stretch no matter what they’d been in the middle of. That lasted a beat before she bellowed, “On your asses!”

Carlos snickered, not really paying attention to the shortish guy that passed him in loose, flowy clothes that brushed a hand over his dark hair. Puck was mostly weirded out that he was getting used to people patting on the BRATs like they were puppies.

“Yo, Amigo,” Faith said as she came up the stands, looking right at Carlos. “On the floor.”

He nodded, still snickering as he stood and bounced towards the ground, barely slowing at the hand that squeezed his bicep. 

Faith flopped down beside the Gleeks, barely sparing them a glance as she pulled a pack of cigarettes out of some unseen pocket and plopped an unlit one between her lips. Then she toyed with it instead of lighting it, watching the kids all settle on the floor, obviously having turned class over to the short dude.

“Meditation,” she finally said as the dude started a chant that most of the others picked up on. He was on the center of the beam, Connor on one end and Jordy on the other, each of them folded like a pretzel and still not falling off. “Then there’ll be a couple of other things and you guys can go to dinner.”

Puck was a little surprised to realize that, yes, it was in fact almost 4:30. He was even more surprised to realize that, as he listened, the knots of anger and unease that’d been wound through his body were slowly lessening until he felt free of it all.

“Wow,” Artie said, sounding a little drowsy. “This is a kick ass song.”

“Tibetan chant,” Faith said, smiling slightly. She was sprawled, though, all over the stands like goo.

“Awesome,” Artie managed, a dreamy smile taking over his face as his eyes drifted closed. 

Everybody seemed similarly affected and Puck turned to find Faith staring straight at him. She smirked a little, obviously seeing him deal with a peace like he’d never experienced before. There’d always been an undercurrent of shame, anger, plain pissed-offness writhing under his skin. And he saw something kindred in her, so maybe he didn’t tense up automatically and get pissed like he normally would. Maybe he just propped his chin on his hand and looked out at the floor and saw his girl, deep in her head, with a crown of stars, and smiled slightly.

Of course, the chant ended. It couldn’t go on forever, no matter how much Puck kind of wished it would. Faith roused slowly, standing and stretching before she bellowed, and jeez, she was _loud_ , “Guys? You up to it?” Danny, Connor, Jordy, and Rona slowly stood and stretched, nodding. As they headed towards a metal ladder leading up the gym walls, Faith called, “Fine. Everybody else, in the stands.”

The rest of the BRATs and Rachel just barely beat everybody else, somehow managing to flatten the booth without fucking with the microphones, and then piling themselves around the Gleeks, sort of a barrier between the guests and the rest of the students. Even as Rachel shifted to cuddle into Puck, distracting him slightly, he noticed Matt hesitantly wrapping a loose arm around Dawn. Of course, Dawn didn’t seem to do anything halfway and collapsed into Matt’s chest, shirt riding up to flash bruises that had Puck scowling. He was getting kind of fond of Rachel’s BRATs and he didn’t like seeming the mottled greens and purples marking their skin. 

Then he got a little distracted because Rachel pointed at the ceiling and whispered, loud enough for the rest of the Glee club to hear, “Watch.”

And _son of a bitch_ , they were doing a trapeze act with no net. They didn’t do a lot of flips and rolling through the air but it was like watching Tarzan swing from vine to vine, only they were swapping swings and being caught by steady hands. 

“It’s about trust,” Faith said quietly, having moved behind them all. “And control. It’s about knowing someone will always be there to catch them.”

Puck’s heart twisted. He maybe understood why Rachel hung out with these BRATs. They seemed to be echoes of the trials Glee club had. Parental troubles, outcasts, trust issues. Oh, yeah. Despite their weird, she’d definitely have felt right at home. And he wasn’t sure she’d want to come back to Lima, not knowing that there were people in this world that would accept her, no matter what.

When the clapping started, Puck’s eyes darted up and he saw that they were doing their final flips, having to catch themselves as they flipped from swing to swing until they finally landed on the platform. Safe and sound. Jeez. Puck was pretty sure he got what the ‘Gifted’ stood for now. He exchanged an uneasy look with Artie and, yeah, he saw it too.

As the four of them scrambled down the ladder, Faith stood and called, “Alright. Give ‘em a little appreciation, people.” And the polite applause was joined by whistling and catcalls. “I didn’t mean that kind of appreciation.” Faith was snickering, though, even as she said, “Now. Since there was that little _thing_ a couple of weeks ago, and since the Boss Man thinks you guys need a little pick-me-up, you’re going to get a little exhibition.”

The crowd around them went a little insane, even as Faith started to saunter down the jammed stands and shades slid down over the tall windows. Jordy and Connor moved to perch on the beam again, while Rona and Danny chose to shove their way through the crowd until they met the BRATs.

“You guys scare the shit out of me, sometimes,” Dawn declared, shifting out of Matt’s hold to throw her arms around Rona, reaching back for Danny’s knee. “But, by the Twinkie, you guys are good.”

Danny and Rona looked elated, still breathing a little hard from flinging themselves through the air.

Dawn shifted back into Matt just in time for Spike, a tall, pale brunette man with a heavy scowl, and a short blonde woman to make their way out to the floor.

“Holy shite!” Danny hissed reverently.

Dawn snickered, pointing, “The blonde’s my sister Buffy, you guys’ve met Spike, and the other guy is Angel. He’s Connor’s dad.”

Puck did a double take at that because Connor’s dad would’ve had to have been, like, _ten_ when he was born because there was no way Angel was over thirty. Just…no way. No wonder Connor had issues with him.

And then they started to _brawl_ and holy shit. Dawn’s sister was completely fucking terrifying. They were _all_ terrifying. They just did not go down for long. But then, Faith and Buffy ganged up on the other two and they went down and down and down until they finally stayed down and turned on one another, fight stance at the ready. But then they straightened and bowed to one another and the crowd was on its feet, crowing in approval.

Puck was on his feet, too, and taller than 80% of the people around him, so he had a clear view of the electrical storm that seemed to be gathering behind the fighters that were limping off the floor. Then it was screaming and pandemonium as the lightening shot out, splintering the beam Connor and Jordy were on, tossing Jordy, full of splinters into the stands and catching Connor across the back with a bolt and throwing him into the wall behind the announcers’ area. The smell of burnt flesh started to drift off his still form and Cassie scrambled through the crowd, banging a small, mighty fist into a red Emergency button that Puck hadn’t noticed, before she dropped down to pull as much of Connor into her lap as she could. He let out a whine of pain and relief ran through Puck’s veins.

“Jig’s up!” Dawn yelled as more bolts sliced through the stands, looking at Rachel. 

She stood and, like the fucking _X-Men_ , a green force shield or whatever flowed out of her hands and kept the lightening at bay. Kit and Carlos barely hesitated before standing, placing one hand on one of her shoulders, and raising a hand, their own shields wrapping around hers, bolstering it. Which was great because one thick bolt punched through Dawn’s initial shield and rebounded off of Kit’s. 

The stands shook from all the damage and Rachel glanced at him, even as she scrambled towards Artie. “Unbuckle,” she demanded, her hands darting for his lap.

“What?!” he squawked, batting at her hands. 

“Unbuckle! Carrying the chair with you in it takes too much effort. Unbuckle,” she demanded again and this time he listened as another shudder ripped through stands. 

She scooped him up, ignoring his indignant squeal, and one of the other girls dressed in yoga pants, a little Asian girl that’d hung around the edges of the BRATs grabbed the chair, leaping from the top of the stands to the floor and running for the door. Rachel was more careful but no less swift in her movements and she led the Gleeks to the ground, Rona carefully cradling a very still Jordy and Danny had Connor draped over his shoulder.

Puck turned in the doorway at the squeal of metal, the cracking of wood, in time to watch all three shields falter and the stands collapse, Dawn, Carlos, and Kit somewhere in the middle.

 


	17. Chapter 17

Everybody made a big deal about the calm before the storm, but Rachel thought the quiet after the storm was more amazing. It was like the whole world paused and took a breath before assessing the damage. And, since this was the Council, the damage was always steep.

“Rachel?” Artie broke through her reverie.

“Hmm?” she murmured, watching as Xander waded into the crowd, already barking orders and sending Slayers scrambling. Funny how everything seemed muffled.

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked.

“Of course not,” she replied idly. Then something clicked, the bubble of safety and quiet burst, and she realized that, not only was she still holding him, someone her size shouldn’t have been able to lift him in the first place. “Jig’s up,” she said, repeating Dawn’s words softly.

She placed him gently back in his chair that Chao Ahn helpfully shoved forward.

“So,” he said, straightening his glasses before folding his hands in his lap. “When did you learn that you’re a mutant?”

And it was so pleasant, understanding, accepting that, despite Jordy and Connor lying on the floor waiting for someone to remember to take them to the infirmary, and Angel, Oz, Buffy, Faith, and Spike’s unknown condition, and the fact that Dawn, Carlos, and Kit were still fighting, she smiled. Several of the girls around them smiled, too.

Tina had better watch her man. Men that could accept that readily were in high demand. And, as for the wheelchair, well, most men were handicapped, compared to a Slayer’s strength.

Xander cut off whatever she might have said, calling over the din as he pushed through the crowd, “Wills!”

The undercurrent of worry was new and had smiles fading as everyone turned to look past Rachel and the Gleeks. Ms. Rosenberg was coming down the hallway at quite a clip, but even that couldn’t explain the breeze whipping about her hair and clothes.

Rachel’d heard stories, of course; they all heard the stories. But she’d never actually seen Ms. Rosenberg do magic, light or dark. She took an instinctive step back as Xander pushed past her, brushing a hand across her shoulder as he did. _I’m here_ , the gesture said and Rachel was reminded all over again of how much the BRATs touched.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Ms. Rosenberg said lightly. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I know,” he said carefully, taking her hand. “So just, you know, breathe.”

“Where’s Dawn?” she asked idly and Rachel suddenly knew that those stories that Ms. Rosenberg _knew_ when Ms. Summers or Xander or Mr. Giles were hurt were true. And that meant that other stories were true and that was truly terrifying.

“She’s in the gym. She’s fine,” Xander said hastily.

“Uh,” Noah said, obviously freaked out. A wave of panic washed through Rachel but there was nothing she could do now but ride it out. “I was the last out the door. Their shield thingy fell and they went down with the stands.”

Ms. Rosenberg’s hair shifted from red to mottled black and white and, in a blink, she was gone.

There was another one of those silences, then Xander said, rather calmly, “Oh, boy.” Then he turned to a cluster of girls and barked as he jabbed a finger at them, “Giles! Andrew! Wesley! Go!”

And the girls darted off, Mollina pulling up short when she almost smacked into Mr. Wyndham-Pryce’s chest, and she turned back to Xander and chirped, “Got ‘im.”

“Graham,” Rona ordered, making shoo fly motions even as she slowly backed away from Jordy, whose eyes were squinched shut and breath panting. “Before he shifts in the damned hall.”

And Mollina was off again.

Rachel looked back at her friends and her mind was swirling. Werewolves and mutants and explosions and lightening and…

“Mutants,” Rachel blurted and everybody looked at her, confused. “A lightening attack? I just thought…”

“Ms. Raiden,” Mr. Wyndham-Pryce nodded, gun propped against his shoulder as he frowned. “Well spotted, Miss Berry.” He handed the rifle off to Mr. Gunn, who’d limped to a stop beside him. “Gwen,” Mr. Wyndham-Pryce said by way of explanation when he looked at him in askance.

Mr. Gunn tapped his cane to the floor, scowling at the ping! ping! of the tip hitting the floor. “I guess I better stay here, then.”

Relief rushed through Rachel, then a touch of guilt followed because she always worried about Mr. Gunn when they were in combat, even though he was the veteran and she the newbie.

Mr. Wyndham-Pryce nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, even as he spoke to Xander, “Be prepared to follow. This shouldn’t take long to put to rights.”

Mr. Giles and Andrew sailed to a stop beside him, Andrew bouncing everywhere in his excitement to be able to help. Rachel would have asked if letting him go was really the best decision, but they were gone through the door before she could get her voice to work. 

Jordy let out a whine, more animal than man and everyone looked back at him. His eyes flew open, amber and wild, and his back arched, injuries be damned. A growl crawled up out of his throat as everyone stepped back and Rachel was positive they were about to have a massacre in the hallway when there were three soft pops and Jordy’s eyes fluttered closed.

“You guys cut it close,” Mr. Miller said disapprovingly as he holstered the air pistol. He shifted to pluck the tranquilizer darts out of Jordy’s chest and said as his skin continued to ripple, “You guys might want to find Oz. We don’t have a vet on staff and he’s going to change unless something calms him down.”

“Oz is MIA,” Xander said, wiggling his way out of the crowd. Several of the girls reached out to stop him because if Ms. Summers or Ms. Rosenberg found out they let him get hurt, there would be nowhere for them to hide, but he slipped through their fingers like smoke. He was too used to dealing with Slayers to be caught by girls that were hesitant to grab hold.

Rachel was more worried about other things, though. She started the soft, lilting chant that Jordy used as opposed to the milder version Mr. Oz used for meditation. Rona joined her, even as the other Slayers’ eyes widened. This level of peace, they weren’t used to. Jordy’s head lolled as a sigh escaped him, wolf quieted once more. 

Some of the stretchers that had been sent for finally arrived and Jordy and Connor were loaded onto them and Rona followed them off. Rachel worried over them because Jordy didn’t like losing control and Connor had been breathing, but he should have woken by now. The burns she’d seen across his back would heal quickly, but they would still hurt. 

“Rachel?” Artie prodded, taking her hand. When she looked down at him, he asked, “Mutants?”

“No, this has nothing to do with anything so easily explained as genetics,” she said quietly. “This is destiny.”

   
 


	18. Chapter 18

Fuck destiny. That was Puck’s first thought. Fuck destiny. This was magic or some shit. 

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, freaked out and pissed off. He felt like he’d been lied to and that wasn’t something he was used to. _He_ was the liar in relationships.

“Destiny,” Rachel said again, only her voice was stronger this time. She looked him square in the eye and he could see that she’d already decided that she’d lost them, him. And maybe she had, because this was something that he couldn’t understand. “This is a school for kids with a destiny.”

“We know. You’re going to be a star,” Hummel said, a little eye roll thrown in for good measure. It was the first truly bitchy thing he’d managed since they’d come to the Academy.

“No. No, I’m not,” Rachel said, shaking her head. Hummel rocked back on his heels, truly shocked. “I’m not going to Broadway. I’m not going to sing and dance and act for a living. Every dream I’ve prepared for since I was a child is dashed. Because my _destiny_ is to stand between the normal denizens of this world and the supernatural. I’m a Slayer. I have a destiny.”

“Oh, girl,” Mercedes said sadly, shaking her head. “You’ve finally lost your mind.”

And the crowd around them shifted, obviously unhappy with that observation. 

“No’ quite, love,” Danny said, shifting to stand beside Rachel. It was the most serious Puck had ever seen the boy and it made something in Puck jitter in panic. Because if Danny was serious, then Rachel was serious, and Puck’s world just got fucked up. “She’s telling you the truth. We’re freaks in a way you’ll never comprehend.”

“But you’re just an Irish guy that does gymnastics,” Brittany said, taking a step forward.

Danny looked like he was going to keep arguing but then just closed his eyes and let his head drop. In a blink, he went from handsome to green skinned with tiny red horns protruding from his face. He looked up at her, eyes red, and she stumbled back a step into Santana’s arms. Just as quickly as it came, the frightening visage faded and he lifted his chin as he said again, “No’ quite, love.”

Rachel wrapped a hand around Danny’s arm, face unbearable sad. “We’re not normal. Some of us started out normal, but that doesn’t matter because we’re not normal, anymore. But we’re the good guys.”

“And who are the bad guys?” Quinn asked, hands protectively covering her stomach. “If you guys are the good guys, who are the bad guys?”

A girl to their left laughed harshly. “Demons,” she said, eyes glittering with anger.

“Vampires,” another girl called from the back.

“Black magic users,” a little girl about Sarah’s age said as she came to look up at them. Puck’s heart twisted because she couldn’t have been older than eleven and she was _here_. Answering to destiny.

“Anybody and anything that takes it upon themselves to harm humans or try to end the world,” Xander said. And some things were finally making sense. The missing eye, the weapons on the walls, the absolute no fear when it came to doing amazing things with their bodies. Little things that were odd, discordant out of context but added to cadence to the truth.

“You save the world,” he said carefully, watching her face. Because he didn’t know any of these other people, so they didn’t matter. Only Rachel mattered at this moment.

“Well, _I_ haven’t yet,” she said, hands fiddling with the end of her shirt. Her eyes darted to the older guys, then back to him. “But others, well, they’ve been doing it for years.”

The Gleeks’ eyes sought out Xander, broad shouldered, well-muscled, and one eyed, and the guy standing beside him, gun propped comfortably on his shoulder and cane holding him up. They looked like the kind of guys that had seen wars.

Puck wasn’t sure what any of them would have said because there was a shout and Xander hurried through the door, the other guy shifting to keep anybody from following.

“Let ‘em work,” he said and everybody stopped and milled around for a second.

Xander came out, Kit cradled carefully in his arms. She whimpered, white streaks through her dark hair and blood streaked across her face. Danny stepped forward and took her from him, since the stretchers were still gone. 

She opened her eyes and there was a little glow to them. “Hurts,” she whispered.

“I know,” Danny said softly. “It’ll be alright.”

“Ev’body else?” she asked, words slurring.

“They’ll be fine,” he assured and Puck’s stomach pitched. She looked broken and she was worried about everybody else.

Xander came out again, Dawn limp in his arms, and Matt surprised everybody by stepping forward to take her. Xander just shifted her over and hurried back out, jaw clenched. Matt couldn’t stand and hold her forever, like Danny, so he carefully sat and started to try to smooth hair out of her face. It was starting to mat with all the blood, so mostly he was just making a mess of his hands but he didn’t seem to care.

Rachel squatted beside him, pulling his hand away from Dawn’s head. She looked a little heartbroken.

“She’ll be okay,” he said, arm tightening. “She’ll be okay, right?”

Rachel studied his face for a moment, then said huskily, “Maybe. This time, she’ll maybe be okay.”

“This time,” Puck repeated, horror slowly filling him.

She looked up at him, then straightened to stand before she said calmly, “There’s always next time.”

Wesley, the seriously creepy, gun toting librarian came out with Mr. Oz thrown over his shoulder, a wooden spike buried deep in the slight man’s hip. Xander followed with Carlos and luckily the stretchers started showing up, nearly a dozen this time, because the wounded were starting to pile up.

Spike staggered out, a wooden stake through his left lung and a huge gash down his face. Rachel stood and hurried to brace him, even as his face flickered, eyes shifting from gold to blue rapidly. Angel, Connor’s father, was dragged out of the gym unconscious by the headmaster and Andrew. Buffy and Faith supported each other through the door and Buffy collapsed onto a stretcher. 

Faith snarled when one of the medics reached for her and everyone took a step back. Well, almost everyone. Xander literally picked her up and plopped her on one, looking all kinds of pissed. She maybe would have gotten up but the headmaster cleared his throat, giving her a piercing look over his glasses. She settled back grudgingly.

And finally Ms. Rosenberg emerged from the room, a weeping woman limping along beside her. Ms. Rosenberg’s temper seemed to have eased because she was mostly white and showing care. That might have been because the woman she was supporting kept apologizing.

Puck looked back at Rachel and she said, looking him straight in the eye, “It’s about control and knowing someone will be there to catch you.”

And, well, fuck destiny. Puck stepped forward, resolve hardening as he cupped her face before wrapping his arms around her. Because there was always next time and they didn’t have time to waste. He couldn’t do the things she did, but he could catch her when she fell.

 


	19. Chapter 19

Rachel knew immediately that Dawn was starting to wake. She took a deep breath, then winced when her bruises twinged, and her eyes slitted open before blinking. Rachel leaned forward and hesitantly covered Dawn’s hand with hers, squeezing lightly.

Dawn rolled her head on the pillow until she was looking at Rachel and managed a sleepy, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Rachel said, giving her hand one last squeeze before breaking proper etiquette and slouching back into her chair.

“Who killed _your_ goldfish?” Dawn asked and Rachel could only blink because that certainly didn’t make any sense to her. “Who kicked your puppy?” Dawn asked with a wince and Rachel could only assume that the goldfish thing had some kind of history to it.

“Mr. Giles has offered me a fabulous opportunity,” Rachel said and she may have seemed less than joyful.

“Uh huh,” Dawn said, rolling carefully over onto her side and tucking her hand under her cheek so that all of her focus was on Rachel.

“There are small pockets of evil are popping up in places near Hellmouths,” Rachel said, drumming her fingers lightly on the chair’s arms. “Faith likened them to boils on the butt of civilization.”

Dawn snorted, then her breath caught in pain. She finally managed a raspy, “Sounds like Faith. But what does that have to do with you?”

“They have to be drained slowly, even though they attract even more evil to them, because bursting them quickly would spill the evil all over the place,” Rachel shrugged, watching her hands in her lap. “One is in Lima and Mr. Giles has offered me the opportunity to relocate back there, since I know the area.”

Dawn reached out a hand and said, “That’s great, isn’t it? That you get to go home?”

Tears welled up as she took the hand and Rachel said weepily, “I don’t know if I’m ready. If I’m good enough. And I don’t want to leave you guys.”

Dawn squeezed her hand tight for a moment, then said, determined, “You go on, Rachel. You’re a BRAT Slayer, of course you’re good enough. And we’re your entourage, superstar, we’ll follow you when you go.”

Rachel blinked, tears momentarily forgotten. “Really?”

Dawn rolled her eyes and pulled her hand back until it was comfortably tucked across her stomach. “Of course. That’s why you’ve trained the most with us, Rach. Xander knew as soon as he handed you over to us that you were going to be one of our girls. Rona might come, and a couple of others, but you were first, Rachel, and if you take an assignment in Lima, we all take an assignment in Lima.” She glanced down at herself and winced. “Well, we might end up finishing out the school year here while somebody sets up a base for us and we finish mending, but we’ll be out there soon enough.” Rachel flung herself at her friend, laughing, and Dawn wheezed, “Newly injured. Loosen up, please.”

“This means I could help New Directions win Regionals!” Rachel said, grinning broadly as she pulled back to sit daintily in her chair.

“Speaking of your friends,” Dawn said with a smirk. “Where are they?”

Rachel’s grin faded a bit as she said, “Mr. Giles sent them home. Mr. Finn and Mr. Miller drove the ones that wouldn’t fit into Santana’s car.”

Dawn nodded. “Yeah, I kind of figured. Bad enough they saw it all happen. They didn’t need to see the cleanup, too.”

Rachel swallowed the lump in her throat and blurt, “They know. About our destiny. Specifically, about _my_ destiny. Although Artie is rather determined that you, Miss Summers, are merely a mutant. He at least appears unbothered by the prospect.”

Dawn smiled. “I liked your Lima friends, Rachel Berry. They’re kooky.”

Rachel snickered. “Yes, well. I don’t think they know _what_ to think about you guys. Although Matthew was rather insistent that I give you this.”

Rachel passed over the paper with the hastily scrawled phone number on it and Dawn’s smile softened and she did something Rachel had never seen her do. She blushed, a fine rosy tint sweeping up her cheeks before she curled her hand into a fist and tucked it out of sight.

“Do you think they’ll be okay with it?” Dawn said, shifting, trying to get comfortable.

“Noah, definitely. He’s already spoken to Mr. Giles about what it takes to be a Watcher,” Rachel said, a love struck smile on her face. “Artie, too, has taken it all in stride. And Matthew is quite taken with you. The rest, I think, mostly need time. It’s not an easy thing to learn, that the world is kept safe on a daily basis by people of such a young age. And, of course, it’s all quite bizarre. Mutants and vampires and witches and Slayers.”

“I have a good feeling about them, though,” Dawn said, nodding, before yawning wide enough that her jaw cracked. She snuggled into her pillow and asked drowsily, “Everybody’s alright, though? Everybody?”

And Rachel tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind Dawn’s ear as she reassured her, “Everyone’s fine. What hurts now will heal. We’re all caught safely for the day. Rest now.”

Dawn fell asleep and Rachel rose, casting her eye around the hospital wing. As she started moving down the rows of beds, happiness and excitement started to rise up in her and she skipped a little until Connor’s head rose up and he opened one irritable eye to glare at her. She waved an apology, smiling grandly. 

There was a chance, however small, that she just might be able to have it all. New Directions and Lima and the BRATs. And some little piece that she thought she’d given away to destiny sang, ‘Broadway, baby.’  
 


	20. Epilogue

Their voices had blended, soaring over the crowded auditorium, and the New Directions shined, Rachel Berry standing right where she belong, right in the center of it. Out in the crowd, her fathers had beamed and the BRATs had been making nuisances of themselves in their jubilation. 

But it all came down to this, this one final decision from the judges. Quinn was off to the hospital, giving birth to the most beautiful, delightful little girl and Noah had gone with her, but Matt was clutching one of Rachel’s hands and Brittany the other and Rachel was certain she’d been crazy when she gave all of this up, when she’d stopped dreaming.

“And the winner is…” Coach Sylvester said, drawing it out because she liked to make people suffer. “God help us all, the misshapen miscreants of New Directions.”

And Rachel’s head about burst from her shoulders in her joy, Matt picking her up and swinging her around and everyone was screaming and laughing and crying all at once, their gigantic trophy proffered to them by a recalcitrant Coach Sylvester, although she had a strangely proud gleam in her eye. 

And the buzz continued off the stage, where parents and friends had rushed to meet them. The BRATs descended on Rachel and they were nearly as exuberant as New Directions. 

Rachel pulled back from hugging Dawn, a quiet bubble seeming to pop up around them suddenly, and she asked, when she glimpsed something colorful under her sleeve, “Dawn, what’s that?”

Dawn pushed it up to reveal a shooting star made up of a trail of smaller stars in varying shades of purple that changed to blue and led to a single bright blue start on the top, wrapping around her bicep.

“It’s your dream,” Dawn said quietly. “And a wish. Most of the girls, they heard Destiny and gave up their Dreams. I don’t want you to ever do that. So this is a shooting star because dreams should rise, not fall.”

Rachel teared up as she swiped a finger over the marking. “You shouldn’t have done anything so permanent, Dawn.”

Dawn rolled her eyes, letting her sleeve fall back down. “Oh, please, do you really think Buffy’s going to let me get a permanent tattoo? It’s magical. It’ll fade, eventually. Probably about the time you stand on a Broadway stage for the first time.”

Rachel flung herself at Dawn again and they clung until Matt came over and said, “Hey, hey, hands off the girlfriend.”

And Rachel pulled away laughing and let herself be swept away Danny and Mercedes as Matt dipped Dawn into a steamy kiss that had Kurt snapping, “Oh, for the love of God and good times! Get a room!” and everybody laughed.

Because right now was perfect and the future was looking up, too. Sometimes, Dreams _did_ give way to Destiny. But not always. Especially not with friends like hers.  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started a sequel with the BRATs in Lima, but it's slow going, so.


End file.
